


A Galleon of Fear

by WintersLuck



Category: Guardians of Childhood - William Joyce, How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Eventual Romance, Fae & Fairies, Fae Magic, Fae Realm, Folklore, Forgive Me, How Do I Tag, I Tried, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:40:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 43,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28031046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WintersLuck/pseuds/WintersLuck
Summary: As the world is thrown into pandemonium, darkness begins to return, creeping into the hearts of frightened and confused children. However, this time the culprit isn’t something the guardians can defeat, and Pitch Black isn’t going to let this chance to reclaim his power go.To stop the man of darkness from recovering his lost Nightmare Galleon and Dream Pirates, Jack is sent to a hidden realm of magic to destroy the ship forever, but with dragons, fairies, and an entire archipelago of Vikings before him, completing his mission before Pitch Black is able to break through the barrier could be harder than he thought.
Relationships: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III/Jack Frost (Guardians of Childhood)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 62





	1. Let's Avoid Calamity

There is something to be said about fear, the all-consuming heart-stopping breath-catching intensity at which it can strike, the mind-numbing slow creeping terror that grows in the deep recesses of one's soul, a dark hidden secret, or a well-known trait. 

After all, everyone is afraid of something, be it; spiders, heights, monsters that hide in the dark. Adults brush it off as phobias and debate whether these fears are learnt behaviours perhaps instilled by societal norms or an inbuilt fear left behind from a time when it was the key to survival. None of that matters however, no matter how a person has acquired their fear, It’s still fear, fanciful name or not. 

Fear isn’t always rational, and it isn’t always irrational, fear just is.

And there is one being who understands fear far better than anyone, a being who feeds on the darkness lurking inside, who can draw it out and bend it to his will. A ghastly specter of a man, clothed in shadows, Pitch Black.

The Guardians had been sure the defeat of Pitch Black would be the last they saw of the Nightmare King, and for the first seven years, that was the case. Pitch had secluded himself to the darkness he so admired, surfacing only in areas rife with fear and despair, areas even the Guardians power struggled to abate. 

That was until eight years after the dark being's downfall when the world was thrown into chaos by a deadly pandemic that swept across the globe in a matter of weeks. Fear became widespread, growing in the hearts of lost and confused children, and through the pandemonium Pitch Black’s power began to grow. 

The virus wasn’t something the Guardians could fight, and try as they might to diminish the fear in the hearts of those they swore to protect, children across the world were forced to grow up faster than ever before, and in turn, they began to forget the Guardians who fought for them. 

What worried the Guardians the most, however, was that through it all, the amassing fear, the waves of panic and paranoia that coated the globe in a cloak of seemingly never-ending darkness, things stayed quiet. There was no attack from the Nightmare King, no nightmares or fearlings stalking the globe, no confrontation for the Guardians to fight.

The Guardians knew, nevertheless, that staying quiet when the tides were in his favour wasn’t in the nature of Pitch Black, and so the search to uncover his plot began.

It took time for the Guardians to discover the hidden scheme of the man of shadows, calling on old favours and offers of new ones from fellow mythical beings. Asking for any and all information known on the black-hearted man, and though much of the information found was fruitless, there was one piece that struck fear into the original four Guardians, the mention of something long forgotten to the earth. The Nightmare Galleon. 

The Nightmare Galleon was a monstrous vessel, a warped and disfigured pitch-black ship with sails woven out of the darkness itself. It was the most feared pirate ship of the Golden Age. Once used by the Nightmare King to sail through space and destroy anything beloved by light. The ship had hunted The Man in the Moon to Earth, and in the ensuing battle that found the man sealed away, the ship and its crew had disappeared. At least, that is what The Man in the Moon would have you believe. 

“Ah, no. Galleon was sealed away. Hidden from Pitch Black.” North crowed. The hulking Russian man was by far the tallest of the Guardians; thickset with perhaps a little more around the middle due to the copious amount of confectionaries he consumed daily. His red cotton shirt was rolled up to the elbows—displaying his stylized Naughty and Nice tattoos that covered both forearms—the colour only further highlighted the rosiness of what skin was visible behind the man's thick grey beard. 

The Guardian of Wonder’s sheer size was intimidating, but he was also unfathomably kind, his unwavering loyalty was something Jack had come to treasure in the hulking man. 

A joyless chuckle escaped the large Guardian as he clapped the snowy-haired teenager on the shoulder with such force it caused the boy to stumble forwards, only just managing to catch himself on the edge of a very cluttered desk.

The five were currently gathered in North’s study at the pole, discussing the concerning information. The oldest of them, the Guardian of Dreams seemed particularly unnerved by the mention of the accursed ship. Sandman as his name would denote was in fact a man, although his gentle round features and his particularly short stature gave him a deceptively young boyish appearance. He was undoubtedly the calmest of the Guardians who spent most of his time drifting about on a cloud of dream-sand that was an ever-present extension of the golden beings body, as well as his means of communication.

It was due to his usual relaxed nature that made it more unsettling to see the man's soft features drawn in distress, as a stream of sand symbols flickered and flashed above his head, never holding shape long enough to be read by any of the room's other occupants. 

Jack had always loved North’s study, it was warm in every aspect. Filled with rich greens and reds, gold highlighting every ornate detail. There were more pillows and throws crammed into the room than any one person needed, and a fire always crackled away ablaze in the hearth, stockings hung from the mantle year-round. Whilst the smell of hot chocolate and baked goods wafted about, the sweet scent clung to every surface, long after the room was empty of the offending culprit. 

Usually, such warmth would be too much for the frozen teen, heat was always so stifling to him, but here it felt good. It felt welcoming; that's why he hated how in the current moment, the room was beginning to feel suffocating. He felt his stomach twist with discomfort as he watched the people he had come to call his family seem so tormented by the news, and the sickly sweet scent that caught in his nose had him fighting down the urge to gag. 

“But… I... I don’t... What does that mean then? That he’s trying to get it back? He’s trying to find it?” Jack replied cautiously, his voice barely a whisper as his hands wrung the gnarled wood of his staff. 

The sleeves of his blue hoodie were pulled down so only his fingertips poked out the ends and his hood had been pulled up, the boy always finding himself retreating into the depths of the garment whenever he felt insecure about something.

Perhaps it was a childish reaction—he may be well over three hundred years old, but his body was frozen at fourteen, so he allowed himself to behave a little immaturely—and maybe it was from all the years he spent being invisible and having no one to talk to, but being able to hide away from the eyes of others always made him feel a little better when he felt so vulnerable.

His wary blue eyes tracked across the room, waiting for someone to give him the answer he was looking for, instead he found it clearly painted across the faces of his fellow Guardians. 

“Jack,” Tooth’s voice punctuated the silence of the usually blaring room, startling the occupants with the sudden sound. Tooth seemed to be caught between wanting to tell Jack and also wanting to keep the youngest Guardian blissfully unaware. Her expression became guarded as she took her time to contemplate her words, accepting a nod from The Guardian of Hope as confirmation to a silent question before she spoke again.

“The Galleon, It’s…” She paused, seeming to strengthen her resolve before she continued. “It’s sealed away in another realm,” In a flutter of vivid colours and the flash of iridescent wings, the Tooth Fairy crossed the room, settling beside the bewildered Guardian of Fun. The look on the fairies face alarmed the immortal teenager, she looked so serious and determined. A look Jack had only seen her wear when facing Pitch Black eight years prior. The feather clad fairy was always so soft-spoken and affable that he often forgot that she, like Bunny, was a warrior through and through. Her humming-bird features and light-hearted legend told nothing of the Queen of the Tooth Fairies' real nature.

“When Pitch was sealed, Manny sought help from the _Aos Sí_. He made a deal with them; he would stay, watch over Earth and keep Pitch under control. In return, they would take the Nightmare Galleon and it’s sealed crew and hide it away in their realm. A realm hidden from this world, woven into existence by the powerful magic of the _Aos Sí._ Entrances to the realm are protected, very few beings can open the pathways between our world and theirs, but…” The fairy paused, trying to find the words to continue, her complexion bleached in comparison to her usual vibrancy. 

“Someone with enough power could break through,” The hostile response of the Guardian of Hope cut through the growing tension with all the delicacy of a roaring chainsaw. It would almost have seemed comical for such hostility to come from a giant rabbit if said rabbit didn’t stand somewhere between six to seven-foot-tall and tower completely over Jack. 

With blue-grey fur that was littered with what appeared to be tribal designs, leather bracers decorated with ornate detailing, matching the ever present boomerang holster strung around the male's middle. The pooka’s appearance hid no secret to the warrior he was. His angular features and sharp brows held not even a suggestion of the adorable bunny his fellow Guardian had been reduced to on the Easter of 2012. 

“If we let the filthy ratbag continue ta’ grow his powers unchecked, by the end of the year he’ll be able ta’ break through the barrier and reclaim his ship. And when he does…” The warrior rabbit continued.

“It is likely Pitch will attack Man in Moon. If Man in Moon falls, we all fall.” North grunted, before the pooka could finish, his fingers twitching towards the usual location of his twin swords—as if expecting an attack any moment—but when they came up empty, settled for curling into meaty fists. 

Tooth tentatively lifted her hand to rest on the immortal teen's shoulder startling him out of his bewildered daze. “Jack?” Her soft voice settled across the room, drawing all eyes to the pair. 

“If… if that’s the case, what can we do? If this Nightmare Galleon is in another realm, how are we supposed to stop him?” Jack's voice quivered, releasing a shaky breath, his eyes darting between the other guardians begging for an answer. 

“We do as Man in Moon ordered, we go to realm, and destroy Nightmare Galleon!” North boasted, hands on his hips, his chest puffed out with such pride at his statement. 

The Guardian of Hope could only scoff at the display before he quipped “Oh, yeah. That’s easy to say, mate. But you forget something. If we go in there, then who’s going to be out here doing our jobs?! Or did you forget, if we aren’t here, those little ankle biters will be left helpless to their fears!” The pooka stood, arms crossed over his chest defensively, silently daring the Russian to argue back. 

“Bunny’s right,” Tooth chimed in, her words clouded by concern. Her arms moved to cover her chest—appearing to try and find some comfort in her self-embrace—as she dropped a few inches to the ground, from where she had been hovering moments before. “We can’t just go rushing into this, me and Sandy have to stay here. None of us know how long it’ll take to find the Galleon on the other side, and we still have Easter and Christmas before the year's out! If either of you miss those, we’ll- Well... We don’t want a repeat of Easter 2012 do we…” If anyone saw the giant rabbit shudder they ignored it, far too busy with staring off at various points around the room, preoccupied with their own thoughts. 

“Then, it’s up to me,” Came Jack’s quiet response, his fingers tightening around his staff until his knuckles whitened, trying to find the courage he felt so sorely lacking. He briefly remembered a film Jamie had once made him watch—in which a girl offered herself up in place of her younger sister to fight in some morbid games—the words that ran through his head unfiltered ‘ _ I volunteer as tribute _ ’ had him struggling to stifle a small laugh, that only made him feel more uncomfortable at the particularly poor timing and serious air suffocating the room. ‘ _ Ah, so sue me, I’m the Guardian of Fun, emphasis on the FUN. I have to find a little humor in this situation. _ ’ He thought to himself. 

“It’s up to me,” he tried again nodding once to punctuate his announcement. “You all managed fine before, other than snow days there isn’t much I can do. Not to mention winter will still come without me. If Manny gave us this job, he knew one of us could do it, it has to be me.” he spoke with finality. From the resigned looks that spread across the faces of his fellow Guardians, he could tell, his words hadn’t been a surprise. They had already realised it would have to be him, perhaps before even he himself had accepted it. 

The Guardian of Hope took a hesitant step towards him, arms raised—as if he were placating a frightened animal— and when Jack made no attempt to move, a giant paw came to rest on the young Guardians shoulder. “Jack, are ya’ sure about this mate? Ya’ don’t even know what ya’ walkin’ into, it’s dangerous.” The uneasy spring green eyes of the pooka met determined glacier blues, searching the face of the boy before him, but the youth's expression was an unshakable mask of false confidence. It gave no hint to the panic, concern, and fear that was surely just beneath the surface. 

Eight years ago Jack was sure Bunny wouldn’t have minded the thought of sending him off to another realm, just to be rid of him, but over the year’s they’d come to understand one another better, and even enjoyed spending time together. Bunny, Jack had found, could be a surprisingly good sport, and those boomerangs had given him a wicked throwing arm, which made snowball fights all the more enjoyable with a decent opponent, not that either of them would openly admit that to anyone, especially since Bunny wished to keep up his appearance of hating the cold, or any temperature one wouldn’t expect in spring. 

“Can’t be any more dangerous than letting Pitch get his hands on the Galleon,” Jack replied tensely, trying to hold on to the small amount of courage he’d been able to claw together. “There’s no other choice, we all know that. If I don’t go, we might as well just hand ourselves over to Pitch and tell him to be done with it,” Jack huffed, raising his staff a fraction before stamping it down against the wooden flooring with a soft  _ thump _ , a cool blast of air erupted from the point of contact ruffling the boys clothing and hair, frost ferns curling out, inching across the floor, as loose papers fluttered around the room. “Well I for one won't go down without a fight, and if this is the only way, then so be it.” His fellow guardians could only nod in resignation at the boy's proclamation.

“Then, we must prepare you for mission, Jack,” Came the unusually small voice of the large man. 

“It’s not going to be easy, the realm of the  _ Aos Sí,  _ it's nothing like ours.” Tooth hastily added.

“It’s a world in which magic runs wild,” Bunny intoned before he looked over to the small golden man who up until that moment had only stood quietly and watched the unfolding events before him. Symbols began to slowly form over his head, the Guardian of Hope nodded before turning to Jack again and with a cautious breath continued “and ya’ won’t have ya’ powers there” 

The talk drew on long into the night, the older Guardians informing their youngest about what to expect once he reached the other realm. How the realm of the  _ Aos Sí  _ was a realm beyond the reach of The Man in the Moon’s powers. How once he got there he would have to track down both the Galleon and the Court of the  _ Aos Sí.  _ How he would have to strike a deal with them to regain the use of his powers in their realm before he could even think of destroying the Galleon, and it was very likely, there would be beings in the realm who would react unpredictably to outsiders. 

Jack had begun to wonder throughout the discussion about how he was possibly going to accomplish it; an entire world he knew next to nothing about. He’d heard legends of the  _ Aos Sí _ , none of which he particularly remembered being good, they were fairy beings, but nothing like Toothiana, she had been sure to remind Jack of that, several times over. 

He was sure one of the legends had been told to him by his mother, but it was so hazy and distant he could no longer be sure; one thing he did know was the mention of them was stirring something long forgotten inside of him. Something that was trying to claw its way to the surface of his mind, something he was sure was best left forgotten. For now, he just needed to focus on the task at hand, his mission. 

  
  


\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
  


Jack had been saying goodbye to Jamie when a call came in from the other Guardians; it had been a week since he’d accepted the mission. The others had taken it upon themselves to find an entrance to the other realm and someone who could open it, meanwhile, he had been told to get some rest and had taken it upon himself to explain to the Burgess kids why he wouldn’t be around for a while. 

Jack had expected to have more time, but the Guardians were nothing if not resourceful. Still, he was glad he had managed to explain briefly to Jamie what was happening. He mused over the memory as he rode the wind back to the pole, small peels of laughter escaping him whenever he was flipped and thrown, by his playful friend.

It seemed even the wind could sense the anxiety that radiated from him at the memory, and was making an effort to take his mind off of it. He couldn’t deny he enjoyed the cool breeze that whipped against his skin, and the scent of pine as he flew over a vast forest on his journey, but even those small delights weren’t enough to stop himself coming back time and again to the memory of Jamie, how could he not, Jamie had been apprehensive to let him go. 

‘ _ What if when you come back I can’t see you anymore? What if I forget, Jack? _ ’ Jamie's words still rang painfully in his head, he knew he could never tell his first believer how afraid those words made him, and had Jamie said those words years before he would only have reminded him of his own parting words from Easter of 2012, but he couldn’t find it in him to say those words anymore.

All kids stop believing at some point; at sixteen it was amazing Jamie and the others still believed in him. As the years drew on Jack had begun to get nervous every time he came to visit the Burgess kids, the nagging feeling that had wormed its way into his chest had been slowly eating away at him, the thought that ‘ _ this could be the last time’ _ always left a bitter taste in the Guardian of Fun’s mouth. 

Maybe they were different, they could never know for sure, Jamie may never forget, then again, Jack could show up one day and be invisible to the boy he had come to view as a part of his family. So far he had been wrong, but something about his goodbye this time made a knot grow in his stomach and he didn’t like the way it sat with him. 

Jack let out a frustrated sigh, snowflakes swirled around him in small flurries as he rolled onto his back and stared up at the night sky above, trusting the wind to get him to his destination safely. His fingers ran unconsciously over the ridges of the surface of his staff as he thought; Jamie had looked sullen. He had been trying to say something important when the northern lights had illuminated the boy’s room. 

The immortal had been so distracted, he hadn’t listened to what Jamie was telling him. Thinking back on it now, whatever it was must have been important if the brief flicker of discomfort that had shown on the boy's face had been anything to go by. Jack would be sure to visit Jamie first when this was all over and ask him to tell him again.

The spirit was startled out of his  reverie as a harsh blast of wind caught him in a sudden updraft sending him flailing in the air before he managed to orientate himself once more. The sight of warm light, cast across a sea of snow from a large otherworldly wooden structure— that itself seemed imagined by the mind of a child—let him know he had reached the North Pole. 

“Should I even mention that there was probably a gentler way to let me know we’d arrived?” He chuckled softly to himself as the wind whipped around him, ruffling his clothes and hair, a gesture Jack had grown used to over the years he’d spent with his longtime companion. “Alright, I’ll take that as a firm negative.” 

The moment he stepped foot into the North Pole he was grabbed by the giant furred hands of a yeti—Jack suspected they belonged to Phil, he had always had a gentler hand to him when throwing him out of the pole from what He remembered—and with the suspicious sound of what the Guardian of Fun was fairly sure was a snowglobe being smashed, and the garbled words of the yeti, he found himself tumbling through a newly opened portal. His glacier blue eyes widened in confusion before he caught himself tumbling out the other side, into the clearing of a woods. 

No, it wasn’t any old woods, this was Burgess woods, his home. With an exasperated sigh, the boy ran his hand down his face. “You have got to be kidding me,” Jack muttered to himself in disbelief, this was starting to seem like a very North thought out plan, he supposed he should just be glad there was no sack this time. But he did wonder why he hadn’t just been called straight here instead of going to the pole, only to then end up straight back to where he had just been. 

It took him a few moments to realise he wasn't alone in the clearing, but the man who stood across from him wasn’t one of the four he expected to greet him. Although the thin bearded man wasn’t completely unknown to him, he’d seen his face many times, in a painting on the wall at the pole.

Father Time, that was his name, although North always called him Ombric—Jack, however, mentally referred to him as Guardian Gandalf after Jamie had managed to wrangle him inside for another round of “cultural education” as the Burgess kids had taken to calling it—but why was he here? And what was the far off noise he was hearing, he couldn’t make out what it was but something in him felt uncomfortable ignoring it.

Ombric—Guardian Gandalf—was hastily waving over the young spirit, Jack could tell the man appeared to be panicked, and so in a hurried step he swept across the clearing, coming to land before the man who always reminded him so much of North—Jack had always struggled to contain his amusement when viewing the man's portrait, because you really couldn’t see him as anything other than a wizard, which was exactly what he was—Jack could only let out a startled yelp as he was grabbed by the ancient Guardian and rushed through the trees. 

“We must hurry young Guardian! Pitch Black discovered our plan, he’s attempting to stop you from passing through the portal! The others are holding him back, but his powers have grown strong. I do not know how long we have, but we must get you through quickly!” The ancient Guardian exclaimed ruefully, as he stuffed a rolled-up scroll into the frozen teen's hoody pocket and hung what looked suspiciously like a wire wrapped crystal around his neck. 

Jack had to concentrate to avoid stumbling over the roots and rocks that cluttered the unused path they were taking. They were heading deeper into the woods, and the further they went the more Jack felt his insides twist. ‘ _ This can’t be right, do I not even get to say goodbye? Aren’t they going to wish me luck and cheer me off with those stupid elves and their horns? Are they going to be okay against Pitch? Shouldn’t I go and help them? _ ’

He didn’t have long to contemplate the copious amount of questions streaming through his head before two fearlings burst forth from the path behind them, howling and screaming, long claw-like hands reaching for the pair. The forest appeared to shake in their presence, branches cracked and broke in their wake, nothing in the path of the shadows remained undamaged.

The twisted spectral bodies were easily gaining on them with nothing to slow them down. The white-haired companions broke out of the trees into a small clearing only moments later, Jack casting blast after blast of ice behind them, in a vain attempt to slow the fearlings' advance. 

Ombric had begun chanting as soon as they reached the clearing, but hadn’t slowed his pace—Jack was surprised the old wizard had it in him when he was certain a sudden gust of wind could snap his frail physique—they looked to be heading towards a large Hawthorn that grew alone in the centre. The tree in the moonlight looked to shimmer with a somewhat oily sheen, and for all the world appeared to be glowing.

The blasts weren’t helping, and Jack could already tell when they reached the tree that Ombric needed more time with whatever it was the old wizard was doing, and so he spun and began to desperately fend off the two monsters of shadow, in a barrage of snow and ice. The teen managed to freeze one of the fearlings, but it didn’t look like it would hold for long. 

A second after his brief moment of triumph he felt something wrap around his ankle and then his back met the ground, knocking the air from his lungs. His head smacked against an exposed root with a hard  _ thwack _ that sent snowflakes dancing across his vision. His fingers tightened around his staff as he moved instinctively, swinging at the shadow creature on top of him, the back of the crook slamming into the monster's head, ice erupting on contact encasing the beings eternally screaming visage. 

He staggered to his feet, his head was pounding, and there was an incessant ringing noise that only served to make the pain worse, his hands clamped over his ears in an effort to block out the noise, but as soon as his hands made contact he was being grabbed again, this time by Ombric who had apparently finished his incantation and was urging him towards the tree which was now most certainly glowing. 

He was led around the side, to a part of the tree which had been hidden from view when they entered the clearing, carved into the trunk was a large seven-pointed star and below it a hollow, big enough for a person to fit through, across the opening, a veil of pure magic rippled. 

“Hurry boy! You must go!” Came the panicked proclamation of the wizard, more fearlings had emerged from the surrounding trees, closing in on them from all sides, their shrieks and wails weren’t helping the pounding in his head. The young immortal turned about to argue that he had to stay and help the ancient guardian fight, but his protest was cut short as the end of the wizard's staff slammed into his chest knocking the teen back through the veil. 

Immediately his body felt simultaneously too hot and too cold. Pain ignited within him and flooded his senses, smothering him, his vision danced, too dark and too bright, and he was falling. He couldn’t tell how long he fell, the pain searing through his every cell had turned his mind to a jumbled mess of confusion and panic. ‘ _ Is it supposed to be this painful? was the veil not opened properly? am I dying?’ _

Perhaps if he hadn’t been in so much agony he’d have noticed the dark mass that fell alongside him; perhaps he’d have heard its guttural wretched scream, but he didn’t. His own cries of pain were deafening enough, and everything hurt, and then all of a sudden he wasn’t falling anymore. He had hit something—water maybe?—it stung, but not as much as he knew hitting the ground did, it was cold. So cold, and he couldn’t tell which way he was facing, he kicked out, water flooding his lungs as he tried desperately to take a breath—why had he tried, he knew better than anyone you can’t breathe underwater—and he was choking. 

His eyes cracked open—when had he closed them?—they stung, but he could see light, he tried to swim towards it, kicking and fighting to get to the surface. His lungs burned, he was suffocating, his body ached and he felt so tired, he needed to get to the surface, but he couldn't, something had a hold of him, something was dragging him down, pain tore through his ankle, but he kept struggling. 

Darkness was seeping into his vision, he couldn’t hold his breath any longer, he needed to take another breath, but he knew he couldn't. He had to hold on, he was sure, just a little more and he'd reach the surface. 

Then suddenly the light was gone. No, it wasn’t gone, it was just blocked out, by some immense winged black beast, the water distorted the image before him—or was that just his vision—he couldn’t place what he was seeing, did he know what this creature was? something was telling him he knew a name for it, but every time he felt the word on his tongue it slipped away from him. Giant clawed paws broke the surface of the water, and then he was pulled free of the watery constraints, and whatever held his ankle was forced to let him go, he was sure he could hear a voice, calling out to him. Was the creature like Bunny, could they speak? He didn’t know, and before he could find out, the world went dark, and he fell into unconsciousness. 


	2. Tell Me Your Name

Hiccup definitely hadn’t expected to be fishing a drowning boy out of the middle of the ocean when he had woken up that morning—with Gustav's track record, it had definitely always been a possibility—but that was exactly how the day had shaped up.

He and Gustav had been headed back to Dragon's Edge after their run-in with Dagur—courtesy of yet another one of Gustav's “brilliant” plans—when they found him. One minute they were flying perfectly on course—a rarity when flying with the young untrained dragon rider—and the next they were way off target and no amount of correction could get the dragons to head back towards The Edge.

“Uh, Hiccup, not that I’m worried or anything but, what’s going on?! Fanghook always listens to me, so why isn’t he now?” Fretted the young rider, as he desperately threw his body against his dragon's horns in an attempt to knock the dragon off course, or perhaps out of whatever trance they were in. 

Hiccup had to school his own expression, it was laughable to hear Gustav’s claim that Fanghook ever did anything but disobey his orders but it didn’t seem like the right time to go getting in an argument when even he couldn’t get Toothless to budge. 

“I honestly couldn’t say, Toothless wouldn’t fly us into danger though,” He hesitated, a nervous laugh escaping him as he pets his companion’s side. “Right bud,” He stated, though even he doubted his surety, which left the statement feeling more like a question. 

Hiccup was certain Gustav hadn’t been reassured by his words, but the young rider stayed silent all the same, and the flight continued on, both praying their dragons weren’t going to wind up getting them killed. 

Gustav had been the first to spot the movement amidst the restless waves; a violent thrashing that could have from a distance been mistaken for a frenzied school of fish. Hiccup had hoped at first for it to be a new species of dragon—perhaps one with a similar ability to a Death Song due to the way it had drawn their dragons off course—although that idea was quickly shot down. 

Fingertips broke the surface, followed shortly after by desperately grabbing hands, and as they drew closer, a distinctly human shape took form below the surge, whoever they were, they were losing their battle to stay afloat.

“Hiccup, it’s a person!” Gustav gasped, practically hanging off of his dragon to get a better look at the scene below.

“I can see that Gustav, thank you,” Hiccup replied flatly, trying not to be too exasperated by the lack of attempt to help said person. 

Hiccup had to give it to Toothless, the dragon had started moving well before he had a chance to act, dragging the boy's limp body from the waves. They panicked at first, the stranger looked practically dead. He was far too cold, much too pale, and hardly appeared to be breathing, who knew how long he had been in the water before they’d gotten there. 

“Is he dead?” Inquired the young rider, as he pressed closer into the older rider's space. He stared at the stranger with morbid curiosity. A quick growl from Toothless had Fanghook briskly backing away, much to his riders displeasure. 

“No Gustav, he’s not dead. He’s just unconscious, and freezing,” He hurried to wrap the frozen boy in a blanket that he kept stored in one of his saddlebags, although the fabric did little to lessen the chill that had taken hold of the small teen's body. 

“Well of course he isn’t dead Hiccup, Fanghook led us here to save him, he’s a hero” Boasted the child Viking. The Monstrous Nightmare seemed rather satisfied with itself for the praise until another growl from the Night Fury had the expression morphing into one of sheepishness.

“You do realize that both our dragons brought us here, right?” 

“Well, yeah- but I saw him first!” The young rider crossed his arms indignantly, huffing to himself as if Hiccup were taking all the glory. 

The older rider couldn’t find it in himself to argue or remind the boy that Toothless was the one to pull the stranger from the water, it would only be a losing battle when Gustav was concerned. 

The water that stretched out beneath them churned and writhed almost like it was displeased to have had the boy pulled from its depths. Hiccup couldn’t help the shiver that ran down his spine at the thought. It was confounding to him how the dragons had ended up here, it was a little far-fetched to believe they’d heard the boy’s cry for help from such a distance, but then there was a lot unknown about dragons, so he wouldn’t rule it out. It was a lot easier to swallow than any alternative he could come up with. 

The journey back to Dragon’s Edge was going to be a long one, even if Toothless flew all out, not that Hiccup planned to risk going at those speeds with the unconscious stranger awkwardly held in his arms. The boy hadn’t opened his eyes yet, and although they rationalized that it was just due to exhaustion, the worry weighed on them.

Hiccup was beginning to feel the bite of the bitter wind that whipped around them, he was half afraid that if he let go of the boy in his arms the wind would carry him away, so he held on tighter. Water soaked into his clothes—leaving the fabric rubbing uncomfortably against sensitive skin—from the shivering form he held against his chest, a vain attempt to pass on much-needed warmth. 

To distract himself from his worry, and the long uncomfortable flight ahead he decided to get a better look at the perplexing boy; he was practically skin and bones, even skinnier than Hiccup himself and he dare say he was probably at least a head taller than the unconscious teen, although Hiccup wasn’t even sure this boy was a teenager, he seemed so young. 

The teen was unconventionally attractive with delicate features that were in no way common to Berkian me—Berkians as a whole were sturdy, beefy one could say, even their features were substantial, built for battle, there was most definitely nothing delicate about Berkians—Hiccup knew a handful of shieldmaidens back home who would be rather envious of the boy’s looks. 

His thick dark lashes sat against defined cheekbones, with dark sculpted brows drawn together as he slept, his nose was slim and straight and his rosy lips, pursed into a thin line, he could tell by the pinched expression on the strangers face that they were suffering, his concerns only reinforced by the shallow laboured huffs he felt against his neck. 

He wondered briefly how his features would soften when he wasn’t in pain, but he pushed the peculiar thought from his mind quickly in favour of examining the boy's clothing. You could tell a lot about a person in the archipelago by what they were wearing, but he had never seen clothing like this before.

The trousers he didn’t pay much attention to, they were relatively normal, possibly made of deer hide if he had to hazard a guess—maybe a size or so too small for the boy by how tightly they clung—He put down the boy's lack of shoes to his time spent in the ocean, though it made it easier for Hiccup to see the strangers ankle which the dragon rider noted looked to have been clawed by something; perhaps a wild dragon? 

His interest was piqued by the peculiar blue hooded garment that shrouded the boy's torso. He’d never seen anything like it before; the fabric was unusual, not to mention the shade of blue—how had they achieved that colour?—it didn’t possibly look warm enough for the climate, and the stitching was incredibly precise. Had the garment been bought from a merchant or was the boy himself from somewhere outside of the known islands?

What puzzled Hiccup most of all was the shock of white hair on the boy's head. He’d never seen a child with hair that colour, of course, hair turned white as you aged; even his father had begun greying, but no child he had ever seen had hair as white as snow, not in the Hooligan tribe nor in any of the tribes he’d visited, which only furthered his belief that this boy was likely not from around here.

He briefly wondered if they had some kind of mobility issue since he clung so tightly to what could only be some kind of walking aid. He’d tried a few times to pry it free of the teen’s grip, but the boy’s hold was tighter than a Thorston chokehold—Hel was more likely to set ablaze sooner than he’d get it free—so he gave up and did his best to ignore the stick digging into his side and occasionally clipping his ear. 

When they reached the Edge sometime later, Toothless landed directly outside of his hut, bypassing the clubhouse where he knew the others would be waiting for him. He quickly rushed the frozen boy inside—some small part of him was praying the others would be too focused on Gustav whom he had sent to relay events, to come to seek him out just yet—he laid the stranger on a pile of furs by the hearth and had Toothless quickly light the logs he tossed in. Unfortunately, it didn’t take long before a small audience arrived.

“Hiccup, what’s going on?” Came the concerned yet curious voice of his favourite blue-eyed shieldmaiden. Astrid had aged beautifully over the years since their defeat of the Red Death, the softness of her once childish features had started to sharpen into a more mature elegance.

She still favoured the practicality of braiding her hair, but had added to the style with several smaller braids, and had even cut her bangs shorter, with her ever-present kransen resting over her brows. 

The girl wore a tight fitted mottled blue woolen vest. Studded iron shoulder guards gave breadth to her slim frame, whilst leather thonging wrapped both her biceps and leather arm warmers hugged her forearms. She had even toned down the number of spikes that adorned her leather pleated skirt, though the favoured bird skulls were still ever-present. 

She wore a pair of purple linen leggings and leather knee guards sat just above her fur-lined boots. She was in Hiccup’s opinion gorgeous and ferocious, and at that moment with her fierce gaze currently trained on him, he was glad he wasn’t her enemy.

It was no secret the blonde shieldmaiden was the best warrior amongst the dragon riders and was fast becoming one of the best-noted warriors of their age back on Berk. She had a sharp shooting practicality about her that gave her an edge over many others. She was one of Hiccup’s closest confidants, even if their natures often clashed, Astrid being incredibly outspoken and openly distrusting, whilst Hiccup had always held more towards being reserved and optimistic.

“Heee-ey Astrid, long story, can’t talk right now. Could you gather up all of the free pelts and bring them over here before this kid freezes to death?” Hiccup responded quickly, not ready to get into the long lecture he knew was coming from the Nadder rider about bringing back strangers, again. “Fishlegs, can you come over here and help me get this guy’s wet clothes off of him,” He waited a few moments, and when no sound came to suggest they were going to do as asked, he let out a vexed sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Now please.” 

And with one last questioning look between themselves the pair began to move, a few moments later found the boy out of his wet clothing—which had been a challenge considering they had to wrangle the staff out of the boy's grip, although after much trial and error had gotten there somehow, if not a little battered for their efforts—The two Viking boys quickly assessed any injuries. They deemed most to be minor, consisting of a few scrapes and bruises.

Noting between them the more serious injuries they’d need to keep an eye on. The large claw-like wound on the boy's ankle seemed to be the most severe, and a rather large bruise on the boy’s back most definitely needed icing to help reduce the swelling, though that would need to wait for now, they needed to warm him up, not cool him down. 

It was during this time that they had noticed something on the boy that both confused and alarmed them, a slowly healing wound on the stranger's chest, a round circle with a seven-pointed star in the centre. It was fresh, likely not even a day old by how little the wound has scabbed.

The pair agreed that it looked suspiciously like a slave brand, The Hooligan tribe and many of the tribes in the area had long stopped keeping slaves, though in his younger years Hiccup had seen a few brands on freed slaves that had been taken in by neighboring tribes. None of them looked like this, and of all the tribe crests he could recall none of them resembled this one.

If the boy was freshly marked then perhaps he had been running from whoever had branded him, though they also couldn’t rule out the boy being an exile, branded by his tribe, as Fishlegs had suggested.

Fishlegs quickly sketched down the symbol for further research, and Hiccup decided he’d ask his father or perhaps Johann about the mark, before helping to slip the boy into an old set of his clothes he had outgrown. 

Astrid wasn’t the only one finally growing out of their childish looks, over the previous few years the auburn-haired teen had seemed to be having quite the growth spurt, he’d put on a fair bit of height—now the tallest of the dragon riders—there was even a little muscle now, hidden beneath his armour, he was still nothing like his father, but he wasn’t complaining on that front either, the ‘Berkian Beef’—as Snotlout liked to call it—wasn’t something he was looking to gain. 

His hair had grown ever more unruly, and recently he had taken to wearing two small braids behind his right ear—thanks to the deft hands of Astrid who could apparently tame his hair as well as she could dragons—He had outgrown his favoured green linen tunic and now sported a red one—he’d not tell anyone but he definitely chose it to match Toothless’ tail fin—laced at the neck with leather thonging. Over the top sat a leather vest that resembled dragon scales at first glance. Leather pauldrons covered his broad shoulders and a set of leather bracers were bound around his forearms.

A small belt wrapped around his waist—mostly out of practicality so that he could attach his harness to his Night Fury companion when attempting some of the more dangerous maneuvers—but he otherwise kept things simple, with some soft hide trousers and leather boot, his prosthetic hadn’t changed too much over the years but of course, there was always room for an upgrade in Hiccup's opinion. 

Hiccup was glad he had held onto the tunic now since he was sure the size he currently wore was far too big for the snowy-haired boy. It amused and worried Hiccup, that even his outgrown tunic appeared baggy on the small stranger, he was far too skinny to be healthy.

Once Astrid returned with a complaining Snotlout in tow—who she appeared to have rope into carrying the pelts for her—they covered the now dry boy, before gathering themselves on the other side of the room to speak in hushed whispers. 

“Hiccup?” The stocky Viking began, seeming to worry over his words.

It was always a little humorous to watch the behemoth of a Viking act with the temperament of a skittish deer. Fishlegs had the typical Ingerman build, he was heavy set, with golden blonde hair, he wasn’t the tallest of Vikings but he also wasn’t short by any means. What made Fishlegs different—and had bonded the two green-eyed Vikings together—was that Fishlegs wasn’t much of a fighter; he could fight, and if it came down to it he would, but Fishlegs preferred to solve problems with his intellect and not his fists, which Hiccup definitely appreciated. 

The Gronckle rider hadn’t changed all that much over the years, he still wore his much too small iron helmet that was adorned with what appeared to be small Gronckle ears—or were those wings? It was hard to tell—He wore a large leather sleeveless tunic, and a thick banded satchel belt rested upon his hips. Leather segmented bracers clung to his thick arms and a hint of grass green suggested the male wore bright linen trousers beneath his tunic that tucked into the fur-lined boots that clad his feet. 

Fishlegs was somewhat of a dragon enthusiast—much like Hiccup himself—and had taken it upon himself to become somewhat of a walking book of dragons, which had ultimately made him the go-to for all things dragon-related. 

Where Hiccup preferred the more hands-on approach to learning, Fishlegs liked to appreciate them from a safe distance, most things in fact were appreciated from a safe distance when it came to Fishlegs.

“What exactly happened? Gustav said you pulled the kid from the middle of the ocean, that your dragons led you to him,” Fishlegs mumbled, uncertainty colouring his words, clearly still unsure if that was what he really had intended to say. His olive-green eyes darting back and forth between Hiccup's face and the unconscious boy as if hoping to expel some of his anxiety through the action.

Snotlout scoffed in response, blue eyes boring into the side of Hiccup’s head, as the shorter Viking crossed his arms, intending to look intimidating in his defiance, not that Hiccup paid him any mind.

Snotlout had only grown brasher over the years, though Hiccup had long learnt to ignore his cousin's antics. As it turned out Snotlout's behavior was mostly a display of false bravado due to a severe lack of self-confidence and an unhealthy desire to earn his father's approval—which was something Hiccup himself knew a little something about, and could on some level sympathize with—Snotlout was growing into a much shorter double of Spitelout, with identical brunette hair, square jaw, and broad build. The Monstrous Nightmare rider put as much effort into impressing with his outfit as he did with his actions. 

Said outfit consisted of; a sleeveless viridian green leather dragon scale-esque tunic. Grey linen trousers and studded fur-lined boots. The fur was almost identical in colour to the veridian tunic making a remarkably well-coordinated outfit—Who knew Snotlout was so fashion-forward—around his middle sat a thick studded belt, with a large iron belt buckle. Matching arm guards adorn his forearms and a band of leather wrapped around his right bicep. The entire outfit topped off by his signature ram horn helmet.

To put it simply, the outfit seemed rather thought out and Hiccup often wondered how long it took his cousin to get ready in the morning. 

“Of course he did, Hiccup the hero, can’t leave anything well enough alone.” Snotlout barked gruffly before sneering at the taller dragon rider, who in return let out a long-suffering sigh, and chose to ignore his cousin in favour of responding to Fishlegs. 

“Well,” he began, uncomfortably rubbing the back of his neck, he could practically feel the piercing glare of his cousin. “We were heading back after our run-in with Dagur, and then the dragons sort of flew off course- then Gustav starts pointing out this commotion in the water, you see- Sooo...” He tried to read the expressions on his friends' faces, it looked like they were following but clearly wanted him to get on with it. 

“We thought at first it might be a dragon, but then we got closer and well- we found him,” He drew on, gesturing to the boy. “There were no islands or boats around that we could see, and he was injured- So…” He let out a nervous laugh, the room was growing far too hot for his liking, and the successive _tap, tap, tap_ of Astrid’s boot against the floor was setting his teeth on edge. 

“So you just thought what, that you’d bring back a stranger, who you just happened to find in the middle of the ocean, without knowing who they are or why they were even there, to begin with?” Astrid fumed, her hands on her hips as her foot tapped more aggressively, the blond’s signature scowl in place as she stared down the auburn-haired dragon rider. 

“I couldn’t very well leave him there to drown, Astrid!” Hiccup shot back in a hissed whisper glancing over at the boy again—half expecting him to wake up any moment, although he knew it was unlikely—He turned back to the trio, shrugging mostly to himself, and gave the group an unsure smile, trying to shake off his own frustration. “He’s a kid, what's the worst he could do?” 

“Famous last words, Hiccup!” Astrid challenged with a hushed growl.

“Yeah, need we remind you of Heather?” Snotlout cut in flatly, his reply greeted by hums of agreement and nods from his fellow riders, Hiccup couldn’t help but feel a little hurt that even Fishlegs seemed to agree. 

Fighting back the urge to roll his eyes, he let out a soft groan. “Come on guys, we found him. As in me and Gustav, in the middle of the ocean, with nobody around! There was no way anyone could have expected us to be there. He would have died- Odin knows he almost did!” He gestured wildly, starting to feel the frustration swelling again.

‘ _He’s just a kid, why can’t they see that_.’ Hiccup deflated, realizing that at least for now he wasn’t going to get them to understand. 

He was exponentially relieved the twins weren’t in the room—even if that meant they were off somewhere getting into Loki knows what kind of trouble and with Gustav no less—just so he didn’t have to listen to their preposterous ideas about where the stranger came from, ‘ _Knowing them it would be somewhere ludicrous like the moon_.’ He concluded, mentally rolling his eyes at the absurdity. 

“We know Hiccup, we just want you to be careful, okay?” Astrid confided the shieldmaiden resting her hand against Hiccup’s arm in an attempt to calm his flailing gestures. “Just- Keep an eye on him, yeah?” She gave Hiccup a curt nod, not waiting to hear his response, before excusing herself, followed out by Snotlout who had been eyeing the boy suspiciously. 

Astrid’s subdued response had left the auburn-haired rider faltering, of course, he and Astrid had been close since the incident with the Red Death, but it always surprised him when she voiced her concerns for his well being—maybe he was just emotionally constipated from being raised by Stoick the Vast, chief of ‘comforting’ shoulder pats and uncomfortable small talk—it left him smiling goofily after the shieldmaiden all frustration forgotten.

“So,” Fishlegs muttered softly, the stocky male clearly distracted by the damp blue fabric he held in his hands, pulling at seams and examining every inch of the garment. A blast of cold wind from the open doorway kicked up the briny scent of the soaked fabric which left both riders cringing at the unpleasant smell. “Where do you think he comes from?” 

Hiccup chuckled at his friend’s antics. Like himself, Fishlegs was incredibly curious, always wanting to know more. The forest green-eyed rider merely shrugged in response, humming in thought as he dropped onto the stool by his desk pondering the blond’s question. “Honestly, I have no idea. Perhaps he’s from around here, but there are a few obvious signs to suggest otherwise.” He let out a weary sigh—he found himself sighing a lot today—leaning back against the edge of his desk to stare up at the roof as if expecting the rafters to hold all the boy’s untold secrets. 

“Well, I think this is pretty solid proof of that.” Fishlegs piped up, a hint of surprise lacing his words as he lifted a damp sheet of parchment into the light. The water had caused whatever had been used to write on it to bleed, but the characters written were still clear, and they were no runes Hiccup or Fishlegs had ever seen, they were definitely foreign. 

The two boys shared a look that could only be described as ecstatic confusion with a smidgeon of mild concern. On one hand, this was amazing, somewhere out there, there were people who wrote in a completely different way to them, which also meant they likely spoke a different language, maybe with an entirely different culture. What could they learn from each other? Perhaps Johann hadn’t been exaggerating when he had told them all those far fetched stories. On another hand, how did this kid end up here? and when he woke up, would they be able to communicate at all?

“This is amazing!” Hiccup stated in awe, taking the damp parchment from the stocky blond, bringing it further into the light, letting his eyes sweep over the characters. “I wonder what it says.” He questioned, catching his lower lip between his teeth, curiosity getting the better of him, wishing the boy was awake so he could ask if he could ask. 

A sudden loud snort from the Gronckle rider startled him from his thoughts, “Now Hiccup, don’t go getting yourself too worked up over it, Odin knows how many nights you’ve stayed up trying to figure out the dragon eye.” Fishlegs teased with an all too knowing look.

And that was all it took for Hiccup to drop the parchment. All the panic over the stranger had made him forget what he found in the cave. “Speaking of, I actually found something I think you’ll all like.” A grin lit up the chief to be’s face as he raced to grab the chest they’d found in their escape from the collapsing cavern. 

  
  


\--------------------

Every time he opened his eyes, the world span, blurred figures swam in his vision, distant voices echoed around in his head. He could never place what they were saying, sometimes the words seemed clearer, but they sounded foreign, perhaps he was just delirious, but he was sure he didn’t know the language. It was odd, as a guardian he could speak all languages, but he couldn’t find it in himself to focus on that fact for long, if he tried everything became disjointed, thoughts became jumbled and he would forget what it was he had been trying to understand.

Every time he attempted to see through the haze that obscured his vision—an attempt to see the strange figures around him—it made the ringing that had apparently followed him through the veil blare louder in his sensitive skull. The one thing he did notice, was a suspicious lack of the giant winged creature that had rescued him, where was it? 

No matter how hard he tried, his body rejected his wishes, he couldn't even muster up the strength to voice the questions that plagued him, and each time he tried it all ended with his conscious being sucked back into a seemingly never-ending cloud of black.

His limited observation allowed him to conclude that—at least for now—the strangers seemed to mean him no harm. One in particular a blur of auburn and green, always held his head remarkably delicately when helping him drink—something he assumed was warm broth, but he couldn’t place the flavour—when he struggled the first few times the blur had massaged his neck with calloused fingers until he managed to swallow easier. He wanted to thank them but they always disappeared soon after and by then he was usually already halfway back to unconsciousness. 

A few times when he awoke he was sure he could smell burning, the acrid smell caught in his nose and his body became wracked with shuddered coughs, even whilst alarm bells sounded in his head his body refused to listen and he would fall back into the throws of darkness. 

\--------------------

  
  


Astrid had been cautious the days following the boy's arrival, Hiccup understood; the girl had never been the trusting sort, Vikings by nature were not the trusting sort. Hiccup accepted that he was a deviant in that respect. He had always been more of the trust first and possibly regret those decisions later, kind of Viking. He just preferred to see the good in people. If he hadn’t he wouldn’t have trusted Toothless, and then where would they be now? Probably still fighting dragons. 

So until the kid gave him cause to warrant his distrust, he would continue to believe he was no threat. It didn’t seem like they’d be getting any explanation from the snowy-haired boy for a while anyway, and he really was no threat whilst unconscious. 

No. The threat to them for the week that followed came in the forms of one Ruffnut and one Tuffnut Thorston and an entire swarm of Fireworms. 

The first few days had been relatively peaceful, mostly just himself and Fishlegs working through the new information from the Dragon eye lense. 

Then the twins' discovery of their so-called “Namey Rock”—that was in fact a claim stone, authenticated by Gobber himself, much to the chagrin of the other riders—had the twins proclaiming themselves the rulers of the island and had turned into power-hungry tyrants. 

No, that wasn’t being overdramatic. It was an unfortunate truth. A truth which only got worse as the twins seemed to forget the impending threat of the Fireworm migration, and forced hiccup to play stable boy to the pair of muttonheads instead or allowing him to try and avoid the inevitable destruction and check on their still unconscious guest. 

It was due to sheer luck and the incredibly smart Night Terrors that they managed to divert the Fireworms after the twins relinquished control of the slowly burning island. 

Hiccup had immediately gone to check on the stranger when it was over, praying the fire damage hadn’t spread too far and that the boy hadn’t been injured at all.

He hadn’t expected the sight that greeted him when he and Toothless landed on the platform outside his hut.

\--------------------

When Jack woke again he was suddenly acutely aware that his staff wasn’t in his grasp. _Shit, did I lose it?_ His fears crashed together inside his aching skull as his fingers clenched and unclenched—a futile hope that if he did it enough times the staff would materialize in his hold taking form—but thick smoke filled the room, stinging his eyes and burning in his throat. It was too hot and he was struggling to breathe. 

His body still ached, his back, in particular, felt sore, but his vision no longer swam, a dull throbbing still lingered, but mostly his head just felt like it was stuffed with cotton, at least the incessant ringing had stopped. 

Trying not to dwell on the waves of panic the entire situation was stirring within him, he elected instead to focus on the fact that his body was once again listening to his commands—perhaps not as effortlessly and gracefully as he would like, but it was still a win in his books—he pushed himself up letting the slight spinning that the action caused to settle before he started to take in the room around him, searching for an exit.

It didn’t take long, the only light that illuminated the room was coming through the large open entryway, if he squinted hard enough he thought he could see the edge of the moon but perhaps he was mistaken. 

What was concerning to the young immortal was the hazy grey smoke that hung in the air—it perturbed Jack somewhat considering that the hearth beside him wasn’t lit and there was no obvious sign of fire coming from anywhere inside the room—hough the anxiety he felt was replaced by a wave of relief as his eyes ran over the hearth and he found his staff propped up beside it. 

“Thank the Man in the Moon” breathed the snowy-haired teenager, his body sagging, the sight of the familiar wood assuaging his worried mind. Eager to be reunited with his staff—and also wanting to confirm it wasn’t a figment of his imagination—he kicked off the soft heavy mass that covered him and pushed himself to his feet.

His legs protested and a pang of pain shot through his ankle, but as soon as his staff was in his hands and he was able to put some weight on it the pain eased; if only a little. His fingers dance across the gnarled surface, letting his hands become reacquainted with the feel. 

He hadn’t been holding his staff for long when he noticed something unfamiliar knocking against his arm. Hooked onto his staff was the wired wrapped object Father Time had given him, at first he had thought it a crystal, but now he had it in his hand he could tell it wasn’t. It was a shard of ice, completely clear, cold to the touch but not freezing, and it held no sign of melting.

He couldn’t fathom what purpose it had, he was sure it held some kind of importance, the old wizard never was one to do anything meaningless. He lifted the cord back over his head, letting the ice shard drop from his fingers; the shard hitting his chest with a soft _thump_ , he enjoyed the chill against his too-warm skin. 

A small groan tore from the boy’s lips, he couldn’t get his head around it, everything had happened so quickly and now he had no idea where he was, if he was even in the right place, or what he was supposed to do next. Taking a deep shuddered breath, he tried to calm his frazzled nerves which was decidedly a bad move only seconds later when smoke caught in his throat and caused him to choke. 

Once he got the coughing under control he let his watering eyes roam across the room again—taking in more of his surroundings now that he wasn’t so distracted by the absence of his staff—The far wall seemed to be decorated with lots of what looked suspiciously like the masts from what Jack was sure were called windsurfing boards—though they also seemed way smaller and pointier than the ones he’d seen—the artwork he could make out on them was impressive though. Whoever the artist was they were sure talented with a paintbrush. 

Much of the room was hidden from sight, either shrouded in darkness or lost to the smoke, the moonlight only gave him so much scope. He thought he could make out some stairs and perhaps a large chest and a desk, the room itself didn’t seem like anything he remembered back home. It was old in comparison to Jamie’s house, this place was all wood and stone, a sight much more common during the time of his mortal existence when Burgess has been known as Hawthorne, which made Jack question who lived here.

His gaze was drawn towards the entryway again, he took a tentative step towards it, leaning heavily on his staff for support. His focus dropped to his feet, trying to keep his clumsy limbs in check, his knees buckled with each step and the smoke was starting to make him feel lightheaded, but that only urged him forwards faster. 

Stepping through the doorway out into the moon-lit night the teen’s mouth drew into a small awed o—for a brief moment Jack was grateful he wasn’t afraid of heights—wind whipped around his body as the smoke was chased away from charred patches that littered the large platform. The hut—if you could even call it that by the sheer size—was perched high up on the side of a cliff, overlooking a vast ocean. From here the tops of other huts could be made out below. Jack wasn’t looking at the huts though, his eyes were focused on the enormous full moon that hung overhead. 

The Guardian took unsteady steps further forwards, wary of wandering too close to the edge—there were no railings, which in Jack’s opinion seemed a little unsafe when you were this high up. He also wasn’t sure if in his current state the wind would catch him, least of all if he was in the right place, but jumping off a cliff to check if the wind would still answer wasn’t how he planned to go about working things out—he stopped just a few feet away. From here he could feel the gentle updraft that blew in from beneath, it sent dying embers whirling into the night sky, each small light dying out as they’re claimed one by one by the darkness of the night. 

It reminded him of North’s globe all those years prior, watching the lights fade into non-existence. He couldn’t let that happen again, this time there would be no second chances, no Jamie to the rescue, this was all on him, he couldn’t fail. 

To begin he needed to figure out if this was the right place, his focus returned to the large full moon that hung overhead, he wasn’t sure what made him do it—perhaps the uncanny resemblance to the first time he opened his eyes as Jack Frost, perhaps a moment of helplessness—but he couldn’t stop the words that fell from his tongue.

“Manny? I don’t know if you can hear me, or even if you’re listening,” The Guardian of Fun rasped, grimacing at how the words grated against his dry throat, “Please, I don’t know what happened, if I'm in the right place, or even where I'm supposed to be going,” the boy visibly deflated with each breath. “Please for once will you answer me! At- At least let me know if the others are okay?!” He could feel the heavy wetness of tears in his eyes, the hopelessness crushing his chest, but the moon remained ever unanswering. 

Jack continued standing at the edge of the platform, even as his legs threatened to give beneath him—which was probably not the best idea with no railings—the young spirit needed answers, and if Manny wouldn’t help him, he had to figure it out himself, he couldn’t stand around crying about it. Surely there was a way to know he was in the right place, the Guardians had told him a bit about the realm—even if it wasn’t much—so he would have to work with what he knew. 

The realm of the _Aos Sí_ was supposed to be a place Manny’s power couldn’t reach. That could be why he was getting no answer—not that Manny had ever answered him before, and he really couldn’t count on him answering even if he was in the wrong place—Jack had also noticed a difference about himself, he felt warm, there was none of the usual thrumming energy just beneath the surface of his skin, no ice coating the ground he walked on, no flurries of snow dancing in his wake, and each caressing brush of wind against his skin, sent shivers down his spine. 

He felt cold, a kind of cold he hadn’t been in over three hundred years, since the time he was known as Jackson Overland since he had been mortal. 

No amount of forewarning from the others had prepared him for this, of course, he had known he wouldn’t have his powers, but he hadn’t expected to be rendered mortal—at most he had been expecting a block on his powers—to be completely without them felt strange. 

Jack stared pensively into the night, thoughts and feelings let loose like a mid-winter storm inside the mortal-spirits mind. Choosing to ignore the overwhelming emotions, for the time being, he proceeded to attempt to figure out what he could. 

He took his lack of powers as confirmation he was indeed in the right realm, so now he just had to figure out what came next, finding the court of the _Aos Sí_ or the Nightmare Galleon. 

Drumming his fingers against his staff he mulled over his options, ultimately coming to the conclusion he should probably figure out where he was and who the strangers helping him were first and foremost, perhaps they could help him figure that out.

He knew he had to be cautious, the Guardians had said beings in the realm may react unpredictably to strangers, but he supposed if they had wished him harm they wouldn’t have helped him to begin with so that gave the mystery beings some points in their favour.

Too lost in his musings the teenager didn’t notice the way the wind picked up whipping around him in strong drafts, he didn’t hear the rhythmic beating of wings; not until a dark mass shot into the open sky in front of him, eclipsing the moon as the curious eyes of the beast locked onto the snow-bringer. 

Then in a beat of the creatures enormous wings, it was landing on the platform with a _thud_ , which was shortly followed by another _thud_ as the Guardian collapsed back onto the ground with a high pitched yelp—one he would adamantly deny later—Jack kept his focus on the beast in front of him, the moonlight illuminated its midnight black scales, it’s wings folded neatly to its sides, acid green eyes trained on the boy.

The word that had been eluding the teenager slid onto his tongue now with surety. 

“Dragon,” glacier blue eyes widened comically, breathing out the word in disbelief, sure he knew a lot of other mythical beings and creatures were real, you couldn’t live for three hundred years and hang out with Santa and not know that there were others, but dragons, he’d never heard of them actually existing. There were definitely no dragons in the human realm, he was sure he’d have seen one by now if there was, and he was surprised the other Guardians hadn’t mentioned dragons. 

Bunny would most assuredly have vocalized his displeasure with them by now, he was forever voicing his displeasure over other immortal beings. He could just imagine the giant rabbit stomping his oversized paws, muttering about, _‘Ruddy great fire breathing’ lizards.’_ whilst throwing one of his boomerangs in a temper, not that Jack was particularly familiar with these tantrums of course. 

A movement from behind the dragon's head caught his attention, followed by a slight nasally voice that filtered through the air between them, pulling him out of his daze. 

“ _You’re awake?! It’s okay Toothless won't hurt you!”_ The rider spoke as he dismounted the dragon and made his way towards the one immortal teen, but his words were met with only a bewildered look. Whatever language the boy spoke, Jack couldn’t understand it. 

“I- I can’t understand you” Jack faltered, his eyes taking in the unknown person, they looked to be human, perhaps in their late teens, the moonlight made it difficult to truly take in the being but their clothing was strange, in some ways it reminded him of clothing he had once worn, yet in others, it seemed different, piece of armour he never needed in his own life clad the body before him.

“ _Ah, can you not understand me, well this just got a lot more difficult_ ,” sighed the dragon’s rider. The older-looking teen had begun to walk across the platform, to where the mortal-spirit still lay sprawled on the ground. Jack noticed a slight limp to the rider's stride before catching sight of the prosthetic that was in place of the male's left leg, his eyes drawn away from the unusual prosthesis when a hand entered his field of vision.

“ _Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,_ ” The teen continued, even though Jack couldn’t understand the dragon rider, he felt he was trying to be reassuring, his voice was strangely calming, even if he was frustrated he couldn’t understand what he was saying. 

If he had had his powers it wouldn’t have been a problem, with his powers he could understand and speak every living language, a perk of being a guardian, very useful for communicating with believers. 

Taking the outstretched hand, he clambered to his feet, noticing as he did how warm the boy's hand was, his grip was firm but also surprisingly gentle and it confounded Jack. Lost momentarily in his own thoughts he hadn’t realized he’d been standing for quite so long until the hand in his was gently tugged free of his hold, and he was left with the humiliating realization that he had just been standing holding some strange guys hand in silence for who knew how long. 

He was glad it was dark out so that the uncomfortable blush he was certain was staining his cheeks wasn’t visible in the blue light of the moon, he returned to resting heavily on his staff, shifting his weight off of his ankle and awkwardly trying to avoid looking at the dragon rider. 

Now standing he found that the male was much taller than him, but Jack was used to being the short guy unless Sandy was around. He gave the rider a weak smile, which was returned in kind by the rider with a crooked amused grin. 

“I wish I could understand you,” Jack muttered, his gaze dropping to his feet, playing absentmindedly with the wire wrapped shard that hung against his chest and pressed into a particularly sore spot. The boy shivered as a sudden tingling sensation erupted across his skin and settled into his bones, emanating from where the shard sat.

“We should get you back inside, you look frozen” The rider spoke with a concerned edge, his hand resting on Jack's arm to direct the boy back into the darkened hut. Clearly having taken the bout of shivering to mean the mortal-spirit was cold “Come on,” 

Jack's eyes snapped up to stare at the dragon rider dumbfounded, tripping over his own feet as he followed behind the teenager towards the entryway, ignoring the pain that shot threw his leg as he put too much pressure on his injured ankle, his own hand reaching out to grab hold of the soft fabric of the male's tunic, causing the teenager to turn and face him. “Wait, say that again!” Jack begged his breath catching in his throat, barely daring to breathe. 

The taller teenager had stilled upon hearing Jack speak before amazement flashed across the male's face. “So, you do speak Norse?” a wide crooked grin broke out across the dragon rider's face and the snowy-haired teen couldn’t help but smile back. 

“I-I guess so,” Jack whispered excitedly, practically bouncing as his excitement bubbled over. He didn’t know what had happened, but he thanked The Man in the Moon that it had. “I- So, this is Norse?” Jack questioned tasting the foreign words on his tongue before he looked up at the bemused expression of the teenager before him.

Well that explained the clothing, the boy was a Viking, though why was a real-life Viking in the _Aos Sí_ realm? he was sure he hadn’t gone back in time, but then he didn't know how this other realm worked, so maybe he had or maybe they just hadn’t advanced the way the human realm had. 

“Wait, you didn’t know you spoke Norse?” the amused rider was leading Jack back into the hut once again. Jack followed obediently—realizing for the first time, he was actually feeling pretty chilled out in the open—but could only respond with a weak laugh and a shrug. The taller teenager shook his head but continued to smile at the boy. “There’s a story there, but I won’t push it, how about you tell me your name instead?” 

The haze of smoke had cleared from inside the hut when the pair entered, but a faint scent still clung to the walls. Jack watched as the teenager before him moved around the darkroom with ease, lighting torches and the hearth with the help of the large dragon that had followed the rider dutifully, Jack could feel the dragon's eyes on him, but felt no hostility in the beast’s scrutiny. 

With the room starting to flood with light, Jack could finally piece together more of the stranger's appearance, the dusting of freckles and auburn hair that if possible seemed almost as unruly as his own. 

“Ah, my name,” He started his mouth opening and closing a few times contemplating his answer. “Jackson Overland, but-but you can call me Jack,” he finished beaming up at the male who had returned to standing in front of him.

The freckled teenager looked momentarily dumbfounded before he nodded “Jack,” the name rolled off their tongue heavily clad in a Norse accent, that had the mortal-spirit grinning from ear to ear, “I’m Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the third, but you can call me Hiccup” a hand was extended towards Jack as Hiccup finished. 

Jack stared at the outstretched, caught in his own moment of surprise, he supposed out of all the people he knew, Hiccup really wasn’t the strangest name, though why anyone would name their child Horrendous was far beyond him. Hoping not to make quite such a fool of himself this time he quickly reached out his own hand to accept the handshake. 

What he wasn’t expecting was for Hiccups hand to wrap around his forearm, but he did his best to copy the movement and return the—not handshake—handshake, a soft chuckle left the freckled males lips before his hand was back by his side leaving Jack stood looking a little bewildered. 

“Okay, Hiccup,” Jack hummed, tilting his head in the direction of the dragon. “So, who’s your friend?” He eyed the green-eyed creature that had stretched itself out at Hiccups' side and was feigning sleep. Jack had to admit he was a little jealous, the warmth that had begun to descend upon the room had eased the chill from his bones, and he was more than ready to crawl back to his space by the hearth and call quits on the day. 

“Ah, this is Toothless,” That crooked smile had returned to the rider's lips. “He helped me pull you out of the ocean back there, right bud!” A croon erupted from Toothless as Hiccup’s fingers began to scratch behind the dragon’s ear-plates, one giant pink tongue flopping out of the creature's mouth in contented bliss. Jack stifled a laugh—a horrified Toothiana screamed in his head—as he stared in wonder at the gummy mouth of the dragon, not a tooth in sight. 

Hiccup's eyes rounded on Jack after a few moments, “Actually, If you don’t mind me asking, what happened out there, why were you out there, h- how did you get out there?” The boy was stammering, struggling to voice the question he wanted answered the most. 

All Jack could manage was a nervous laugh, before he shrugged, unsure how to respond. “Well, I’m not sure how to answer that. I was sort of in the middle of something somewhere else, and then next thing I knew I was there,” He supplied, rubbing at the back of his neck, feeling uncomfortable about lying to the stranger which only grew more intense when he looked up to meet Hiccup’s wary gaze. 

It wasn’t really a lie though, he had been in the middle of a fight, and then he had suddenly ended up in the middle of the ocean. He also didn’t exactly know how the entrance worked—just that Guardian Gandalf had chanted some kind of spell, which made the tree glow—so saying he didn’t know wasn’t too much of a stretch, was it?

“I mean, maybe I have some ideas, but it’s not exactly something I can just tell a complete stranger, you know? F- For safety reasons and all,” He finished hastily, wringing his staff in his hands. He really didn’t like lying.

“I suppose I can understand that, even if it is a bit suspicious,” Hiccup seemed to study Jack more cautiously now. “Although, the others aren’t going to be as accepting of that answer. Strangers appearing out of nowhere around here are almost never up to any good.” 

“You said almost never,” Jack teased with a smile, trying to ease the tension, but seeing the dragon rider's guarded expression, deflated somewhat. “I’m not going to say, ‘Hey I’m not a bad guy, you can trust me’ because that just sounds one hundred percent like something a bad person would say, but I also think it’s really a matter of perspective. The reason I’m here, it could be bad or good depending on the stance you take,” The mortal-spirit took a nervous breath, as the rider continued to watch him with skepticism. 

“But I don’t even know who you people are, so I don’t know if I can trust you in the same way, you don’t know if you can trust me.” Jack turned back to face Hiccup, his eyes pleading, “I know it’s hard to believe, but I really need you to trust that I’m not here to hurt anyone.” 

Jack waited as Hiccup let out a loud groan, tousled his auburn hair, and shifted his weight from foot to prosthetic, seeming to debate Jack's words.

“Ahh, Astrid’s going to kill me,” Hiccup exhaled heavily through his nose, turning to look at Jack again. “If I’m going to trust you, you have to at least give me something. E-Even a hint as to why you’re here. I don’t need a full answer, but-but just something that I can tell the others.” Forest green eyes bore into the mortal-spirit with such intensity that Jack was left speechless.

The wind whistled by the hut, as the silence drew on inside, each endeavoring to navigate their way through the situation. Hiccup trying desperately to piece together information from the strange teen, but also understanding why Jack wasn't so forthcoming. 

All the while Jack was attempting to give Hiccup answers without giving away something that could later cost him if it turned out that the rider and the dragon weren’t as trustworthy as they seemed. 

“I’m looking for something, well something and someone,” Jack mumbled softly, his fingers running along the grooves of his staff. “I can’t tell you who, or what, o-or even why, not right now. B-Believe me I want to, it would make this a lot easier, Santa's bells it would make it a whole lot easier, but right now, I-I can’t, okay?” He let his head fall against his staff, enjoying the cool feel of the wood against his flushed skin—being mortal seemed like a never-ending cycle or temperature-related issues, too hot one minute and too cold the next—his white-knuckled grip on the wood only easing when he looked up at the Viking teen and was met with a reassuring smile. 

“Okay, that’s all I need to know,” Hiccup nodded, wondering what in Hel 'Santa's bells’ meant. He was glad to get some kind of answer from the child but was also left with more questions than answers. He studied the boy for a moment, noting the tension that practically oozed from the boy's being, he hesitated before he spoke again. “Just- Just promise me that you’ll tell me when you can, I might be able to help you, you know?.” The auburn-haired teen took a cautious step towards Jack, resting his hand on the boy's shoulder, trying to show with more than just his words that he meant what he said. 

Jack could see the sincerity in Hiccup’s eyes, it made his chest ache, he wanted so badly to trust the boy he just met, there was something about the rider that made him feel safe, but the warning from the other Guardians was clear, beings in this realm were unpredictable, he couldn’t let his guard down, not yet at least. “Of course,” he whispered, smiling back at the teenager. “I promise,” 

Even if he couldn’t trust him with it now, that didn’t mean he couldn’t give him a chance. The Guardians had given him the benefit of the doubt, it would only be fair to give Hiccup that same opportunity. 

“Good,” Hiccup nodded, trying to contain the smile that threatened to split his chapped lips, “Good,” He repeated breathlessly, staring down at Jack. “Uh, sorry by the way, that no one was here when you woke up, we had a Fireworm incident we had to sort out,” the boy groaned before sitting down in front of the hearth, stretching out his legs with a relieved sigh. 

The snowy-haired boy dropped onto the pile of furs beside Hiccup, brows furrowed in confusion. “Uh, Fireworms?” Jack hummed questioningly. 

“Oh, you aren’t familiar with fireworms?” Hiccup exclaimed in surprise, his fingers rubbing at his chin in thought, “Well they are a really small dragon, smaller than Terrible Terrors, they glow this golden colour, and like their name suggests they’re typically on fire, much like a monstrous nightmare, but they have a tendency to swarm and cause forest fires, especially when they’re migrating,” 

The fire crackled in the hearth as Jack watched the boy before him, listening to his explanation with interest, he found himself smiling at how enthused the rider became as his explanation continued—Hiccup’s hands seemed to do most of the talking Jack concluded—It was an enthusiasm he’d only ever seen in North and Bunny when talking about their holidays, or Tooth with her Teeth, he could only grin and nod along as the male spoke. 

“Okay,” Jack laughed breathlessly, holding his hands up to halt the ongoing explanation “hold on, so Toothless isn’t the only dragon? There are more? And the ones you had to deal with are like, what, giant flaming bees? Wait, no, you said worms, giant flying flaming worms? I have to tell you that’s kind of terrifying,” He shakes his head, chuckling out loud now as he leaned back to bury his feet under the furs. He supposed a swarm of tiny flaming dragons explained the fire damage.

Hiccup struggled to stifle his own laugh—the picture painted by the snowy-haired stranger was sure an amusing one—that was until he finally registered what the boy’s words meant. “What? Wait, you’re not telling me you’ve never seen a dragon before,” He turned, giving Jack an incredulous look, having simply assumed Jack's earlier reaction was due to being face to face with a dragon, not due to never having seen one before. 

“Where I’m from we don’t have dragons, plenty of stories of them, but no, no actual fire breathers.” Jack shrugged, giving the male an apologetic smile. 

“Not all dragons breathe fire,” Hiccup muttered mostly to himself. “But, how can you not have dragons, they’re everywhere,” The auburn-haired teenager flailed, gesturing wilding in all directions—as if to suggest dragons were hiding in every dark corner—clearly trying to emphasize his point as he openly gaped at Jack, the look morphing into a frown upon seeing the boy laugh.

“I’m not sure, I guess because where I'm from people have a habit of killing what they don’t understand. If we ever had them, they’re gone now. Maybe they just don’t do well in our climate, perhaps we don’t have the correct kind of habitat to sustain dragons” Jack finished considering his own words as his eyes roamed over the now truly sleeping form of Toothless, questioning why the dragons kept to the _Aos Sí_ realm when he was certain other creatures of the realm came and went as they pleased. 

. 

Hiccup didn’t look convinced by Jack’s answer but much to Jack’s relief didn’t press the issue. “Yeah, guess that’s one thing we all have in common, killing what we don't understand. It wasn’t until recently that our tribe stopped killing dragons too,” The dragon rider leaned back against Toothless, his arm extended to scratch the beast under the chin, appearing to offer a silent apology to the sleeping dragon for the actions of his people. “But now I don’t know how we ever lived without them. They’re incredible,” He finished with a look of pure admiration. 

Jack settled down amongst the furs starting to feel the strain of his very short exploration, he couldn't deny he felt a little uncomfortable with letting his guard down around a stranger—if only because he knew the other Guardians would judge his lack of caution—but he didn’t feel like he was in danger with Hiccup. Especially not when he watched the auburn-haired teenager pet Toothless so fondly. Perhaps it would come back to bite him later but he just couldn’t see Hiccup as a threat, the dragon was a different story, however, he seemed relatively relaxed if a little curious, so he was sure it would be fine. 

Jack's caught the dragon rider trying to fight down a yawn, it amused the mortal-spirit, clearly, Hiccup was tired from whatever event had taken place with the Fireworms, and now Hiccup struggled to win another battle, this time against sleep. If Sandy were here there would be no contest, dreamsand was a powerful thing, but right now there was no dreamsand just sheer exhaustion.

“Long day, huh?” Jack questioned jokingly, his eyes sparkling playfully as Hiccup jolted awake. 

“Long week,” Hiccup chuckled, stifling another yawn. “We should probably get some sleep, the Gods know you’ll need all the rest you can get before meeting the others tomorrow, and honestly the more sleep I can get before having to deal with some of those muttonheads again the better,” The rider groaned as he pressed back into Toothless trying to get comfortable it seemed. 

The dragon’s response to all the shifting was to roll away onto his back, causing Hiccup to tip backward, his head only just missing a collision with the floor as it hit the edge of the dragon's soft underbelly. Hiccup for the most part seemed unphased before an exasperated sigh left the exhausted rider. Hiccup moved to get comfortable against the dragon again, muttering a quiet “Useless reptile,” under his breath as he did. 

Jack was both amused and curious by Hiccup’s mention of the ‘others’ as he watched the entertaining scene unfold before him. He wondered what the ‘others’ were like to warrant such a reaction from the boy. 

When Hiccup made no attempt to move and only relaxed further into the sleeping beast, Jack pulled one of the many furs from under him, throwing it over the auburn-haired teen who in his sleep-addled state only cracked an eye open and gave Jack a lazy smile in response.

Jack took that as his cue to settle down for the night himself, sinking deeper into the pile of furs. He felt completely drained and fully expected to join Hiccup in Sandman’s dreamland quickly, but now settled under the furs with nothing but the long dark night ahead, all the unanswered questions he pushed away earlier were back, and the pain he was feeling had become all the more unbearable. 

He peered up into the darkness overhead, all hope of sleep now shattered. He could feel the worry that had been nagging at him since he opened his eyes earlier that day lay its claim on him, sinking its vice-like talons ever deeper. 

All the fears and doubts rattling around in his head, surged to the surface, fighting for dominance over each other; Who were the ‘others’ Hiccup had spoken of? 

Were they like him? 

Would they be as understanding? 

What if they weren’t? 

Where was he? 

How was he going to find the _Aos Sí_? 

How was he going to find the Galleon? 

What had the other Guardians meant when they said beings of the hidden realm may react badly to outsiders? 

Did they mean those like Hiccup or the dragons or were there more than just humans, fae, and dragons in this realm? 

And what happened if, when he found the _Aos Sí_ they refused to help him? 

What if he couldn't complete his mission and Pitch managed to take control of the galleon once more? 

He couldn't let Jamie and the others down, not when they believed in him.

The one thing that was bothering him the most however was why he couldn’t let himself trust Hiccup, the boy had seemed perfectly trustworthy, granted he’d known him less than an hour, and sure he knew the other guardians would judge him, but their judgment had never stopped him before. Perhaps hanging around North so much had started to rub off on him, but as the big guy always said “He could feel it, in his belly” so why when he felt so certain that he could trust Hiccup could he not shake the slither of doubt, the sense that he couldn’t let himself be tricked again. 

But that was it, the inescapable feeling that he’d been tricked before, that was what was bothering him, it had nothing really to do with Hiccup per-say, more the constant feeling that he couldn’t trust himself, that he couldn’t follow his own intuition, that was what was bothering him.

He had been having these frustrating apprehensive inklings often in recent years. The strong sense of knowing but not knowing, all stemming from the issue of his memory. 

It wasn’t so much a problem with his memories, what he remembered was clear as day, the issue he faced was that, as of yet, he didn’t remember everything from his mortal days, and he was uncertain that he would ever remember it all. 

The tooth box had helped sure, but it had only really been the start of a somewhat long and drawn out process because the tooth box only held childhoods greatest memories, and that was in Jack's opinion rather problematic, because not every important memory was classified under the somewhat convoluted notion of what made up one of these “greatest memories”.

So for those other important memories he just had to wait, some things would come back in bits and pieces in dreams and momentary flashes of the past, sometimes it was smells or sounds that triggered it and other times it was just a deeper recognition within himself, an unnerving sense of deja vu that he struggled to understand, He had started to come to terms with it, he had surrendered himself to the fact that somethings just were, but it didn’t stop the frustration over his own lack of understanding.

Lost in his own head, nestled deep within the soft pelts, the fire dwindling in the hearth, the night drew on around him, and he was finally able to succumb to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes.
> 
> Did I intend for this chapter to be so long? No  
> Did I want to cry whilst editing this? Yes  
> Will I do that again? Probably, yeah... 
> 
> It's currently the middle of the night here and I've been editing this chapter for a good solid week. Granted there was a lot of procrastination, snack breaks, and loathing for my own writing during that time, but whos judging? 
> 
> This chapter was my waking nightmare. I think I started hallucinating when I read it through for the nth time, so if I missed anything. Sorry, it lives there now, it's made a pretty nice home for itself and is raising a family of ducks. 
> 
> I now need to go and finish making all the Christmas gifts I started at some point during the first lockdown and then hid away in a dark corner somewhere. 
> 
> The next chapter could be a little later than next weekend, but I'm still aiming to get another chapter out before the new year. 
> 
> Hope everyone is enjoying their end-of-year festivities!


	3. In Dreams I Know

Dreams can be a difficult land to navigate, of course, Sandman makes it easy for children; chasing away the trifles of everyday life. Letting light and wonder fill the hours of sleep with something to take away the truth of reality. 

But that isn’t the case for everyone, dreams for those not protected by Sandy become a construct of your own imagination. A place to escape to or a place to face the reality of your day to day; in all its heightened overthought glory. For fears and hopes, worries, and dreams all come to play in the land of sleep. 

Dreams are so often corrupted by the emotional state of the dreamer when unprotected by Sandman, and currently in a realm so far from his fellow Guardians' reach, Jack's inner turmoil was making itself known.

The faceless, nameless beings who so often haunted his dreams beckoned and pulled him in all directions. Hands gripping, nails clawing, begging to be remembered but never responding to his own desperate pleas. 

Their voices sounded distant, disjointed words repeated like a stuck record, sounding over and over, but all was drowned out and lost to the deafening sound of cracking ice. 

The noise itself made his blood run cold, freezing the air in his lungs. His panicked cries muted by breathless gasps, his hands outstretched above the crowd, a crowd that minute by minute seemed to freeze, blurring into varying shades of blue until he could no longer distinguish being from ice. 

Jack tried desperately to move, he pushed and shoved at the oppressing crowd but his limbs felt weighted down, each movement sluggish like wading through tar, everything was far too slow in comparison to his racing heart. 

The ice creatures held their ground around him, like a glacier wall, each echoed crack sent shockwaves through him, and whilst struggling for breath he already felt as if he were underwater, unable to break the surface for air or scream for help. 

He couldn’t understand why no one was moving, why he was the only one panicking, if they didn’t move soon they’d all be swallowed by the cold darkness beneath them. 

Just as all felt hopeless, and he was sure he was fated to drown again, he was being gently led forward, a slim hand in his own, their fingers locked with his, calming, reassuring, safe. 

A faceless woman, with shimmering golden locks, was pulling him free of the glacial crowds' clutches, only there no longer was a crowd, he was back in Hawthorne woods—no it was Burgess now—branches pulled at him leaving deep scratches in his pale flesh, but he felt nothing. All he knew was that he needed to follow the woman. 

The hand in his loosened as a clearing began to come into view, he thought he could recognize it, there was something in the centre, but he couldn’t see past the silhouette of the stranger—when had she gotten so far away?—he was following after her, but the further from her he got, the thicker the foliage became.

Fearing he’d be left behind he tried to chase after her. It was quickly becoming dark and the branches whipped against his face painfully.

With the woods now covered in an inky shadow, he could no longer make out the stranger amongst the trees around him. But a dismembered voice pulled him in what he hoped was the right direction, it sounded like they were calling his name.

_ ‘J—kson’ _

He was sure they were, and it spurred him on faster towards the source of the noise. 

_ ‘Jackson’ _

He was getting closer now, but it sounded like there was more than one voice. Who was the other person?

The trees were drawing in around him, obstructing his path. The darkness had covered everything now, leaving him blind, but the voices sounded so close, surely he was almost there.

Leaves and twigs whipped at his face with every step, branches caught in his clothes, almost as if they were trying to hold him back. Jack faltered in his chase as the thought struck him. Why did it feel like something was trying to hold him back? To stop him from remembering the woman?

The voices beckoned him again; 

“Jackson” 

_ Whack _

A groan pierced the air as Jack was finally woken from his sleep.

“Oh come on, Ruff, Tuff I told you to wake him up, not hit him with branches!” Hiccup’s own groan shortly following suit.

“What, why not? Don’t you know it’s the only way to wake someone from a nightmare, Hiccup!” Tuffnut announced waving the offending branch—that looked remarkably like a Gronckle wing—with gusto.

“Tis’ true Hiccup, the old Nut saying goes, ‘When one is facing certain doom within their sleep, don’t beat about the brush, beat them with the bush!’” Ruffnutt concurred waving her own—almost identical—branch. “Of course we tried bringing an entire bush, but…” 

“Hiccup! It’s an emergency!” A high pitched cry announced from the doorway as Fishlegs burst into the hut, wild-eyed and breathless. The sight alone had Hiccup leaping off the stool he had been perched on beside his cluttered desk in the direction of his frantic friend. 

“What? What is it Fishlegs? What’s happened?!” Came Hiccup’s hurried response, worried that Dagur had managed to find The Edge and was on the attack.

“Someone destroyed my topiaries!” The large blond wailed in despair, which had Hiccup faltering in his jump to action. “Meatlug and I checked last night before we went to bed that they had survived the fireworms. They were there last night Hiccup but this morning… They’re ruined!” Fishlegs ran his meaty hands down the sides of his face in anguish. “And I had only just finished shaping one to look like a perfect mini Meatlug!” Fishlegs whined, lower lip trembling like an upset toddler ready to throw a tantrum.

Hiccup stood facing the blond Viking, he was sure he could already tell the kind of day it was shaping up to be—it wasn’t like he wasn’t used to dealing with the fall out of his friends by now, it just didn’t ever make it any easier—he pinched the bridge of his nose in the hope to dispel the slow-growing headache. 

Letting out a long breath through his nose he caught sight of the twins trying to sneak out in the reflection of his shield. “Ah, ah, ah, where do you two think you’re going?” Hiccup turned to look at the troublesome two, raising a brow to punctuate his question. 

Toothless placed himself between the twins and the door narrowing his eyes to indicate he would stop them if they so much as thought about running. “Ruffnut, Tuffnut, is there something you want to say?” Hiccup continued.

“Hm, nope, no I think we’re all good here” Came Tuffnut's quick response.

“Yeah, I mean, no, what Tuff said, we’re all good. Got some work on the boar pit to get done” Ruffnut interjected, Gronckle wing-shaped branch held behind her back. 

“Exactly as my dear sister says” Tuffnut added with a flourish, his own branch whacking Ruffnut in the face, and knocking her helmet off all in one fell sweep. Earning himself a shove and mutters of annoyance from his twin before Tuffnut caught up with himself and quickly hid the branch once more, hurriedly adding “And you know what they say, there's nothing like working on a boar pit to..”

“Let me rephrase that then” Hiccup interrupted “What do you have to say to Fishlegs, about his topiaries?”

“O-oooh, you mean do we have anything so say pertaining to a certain Viking’s topiaries, of which we may or may not have tried to bring up here to wake one sleeping stranger?” Tuffnut replied without missing a beat, his free hand rubbing at his chin in mock thought—at least Hiccup liked to believe it was mock thought. He could never tell what was really going on inside the twins' heads, if anything, and on the same note, didn’t particularly care to know—the slight raise in Hiccup's brow indicated for him to keep going. 

“Well yeah, we did tell you Hiccup, Nut family tradition states a bush, but they were way too heavy and Barf and Belch refused to help… Useless dragon.” Ruffnut replied with a huff in place of her brother. Crossing her arms indignantly, her own branch swinging out, whacking Tuffnut in the face this time and knocking his helmet free—It appeared as an accident but Hiccup was half sure the girl had done it on purpose—earning a bout of muttering and shoving from her brother. 

Hiccup by this point had stationed himself between the bickering twins and the mourning blond who was by the minute looking less like he was going to curl up and cry and more like he was going to take the branches from the twins and beat the pair with them himself. Hiccup knew it wasn’t in Fishlegs nature to do that, however, if there was a little ‘Thor Bonecrusher’ left in him, he wouldn’t put it past him. 

“Of all the bushes on the island, why did you two have to take the ones you know belong to Fishlegs?” Hiccup asked, growing more and more exasperated by the sheer idiocy of the twins.

“They were way too big” came Ruffnuts surefire response giving Hiccup a look that clearly stated the answer was obvious.

“Yeah, no way you’d fit them through the door” Appended the male twin with an unequivocal nod of his head. “And who wouldn’t want to hit someone with a bush shaped like a Gronckle!” Tuffnut concluded with a delighted lilt. 

“The person who was going to be hit by said Gronckle shaped bush” Jack supplied staring at the twins skeptically, still rubbing his sore face, his nose wrinkled in contemplation. Up until that point the boy had been watching quietly, he had found the interaction both amusing and mildly concerning.

It had, however, confirmed something for him; Hiccup was seen as the leader to the ‘others’ here; at least from the way they deferred to him—if not somewhat reluctantly in the case of a certain pair of blond twins—they came to him with their concerns, he was trusted by them. It gave him hope that he could trust him too, with time. 

“He’s awake!?” Fishlegs exclaimed with surprise having finally noticed the boy sat in the pile of furs, topiaries momentarily forgotten. Hiccup was sure he could see the hundred and one questions Fishlegs had, reflected in his sky blue eyes.

“He is called Jackson, and yes, he is awake Fishlegs” Hiccup chuckled, amused by the sudden change in the large Viking’s demeanor. 

“Do you really think we can trust him Hiccup?” Fishlegs queried, in what the Viking had meant as a hushed whisper but sounded more like a stage whisper to the mortal-spirit.

“Yeah Fishlegs, I think we should give him the benefit of the doubt, until he proves otherwise” Hiccup reasoned, giving Fishlegs a—Stoick approved—reassuring pat to one of his beefy arms, in an attempt to calm the anxious teen. Whether the nerves were from excitement or worry Hiccup had never been quite sure when it came to Fishlegs, he had always seemed to sit firmly on the border between the two and could tip either way at the drop of a helmet. 

“If you’re sure Hiccup, but what if Astrid is right and he’s dangerous?” Fishlegs gulped as if he thought any moment Jack would pull out a dagger and pounce. 

“You know, HE can hear everything you’re saying right” The snowy-haired teen questioned, drumming his fingers against his lips as he watched on in amusement. 

“HE should be locked up until we’re sure he’s not dangerous,” An assertive declaration cut in from the doorway as Astrid marched into the hut. Her calculating gaze flickered between Hiccup and Jack, clearly not trusting Jack to behave out of her sight. “You should have told me when he woke up Hiccup, in fact, you said you would!” Astrid rebuked with a dissatisfied huff. 

“A-Astrid” Hiccup stuttered before letting out a nervous laugh, holding his hands up in a display of surrender. His focus flittered around the room trying to avoid looking at the angry shieldmaiden—and perhaps trying to find the quickest exit—“Well, yes I did say that, didn’t I, and I was coming to tell you but then the twins showed up first thing and I was a bit busy trying to stop them from beating an unconscious stranger with a bush, or well... Branches,” 

“Yeah, we tried, but we couldn’t bring the whole bush” Tuffnut noted, lifting his chin proudly at the mention of his past actions, getting a hum of agreement from his twin. 

“Uh-huh” Astrid crossed her arms, displaying her disbelief. “So you couldn't even have sent a Terror-mail?”

“Ah hah… Why didn’t I think of that” Hiccup bemoaned “Well you’re here now, so… Astrid, meet Jackson,” He gestured over to the snowy-haired boy in a clear attempt to diffuse the situation, earning a curt nod of acknowledgment from the blue-eyed girl. “Jack, meet Astrid” He gestures back to the blond shieldmaiden now standing beside him. 

Jack felt an amused smile grace his lips, cocking an eyebrow at the clear show of disdain towards him, “Nice to meet you, Astrid” he hummed merrily, greeting the girl with a small wave—it was probably childish, but it was just in his nature to push the buttons of those who showed such dislike towards him, and if the overgrown rabbit could change his mind about him, well then what was to stop Astrid changing her mind too—He could understand her concern towards strangers, even if her display of distrust was a little severe. He hadn’t exactly burst in ready for a fight—and he’d like to repeat again, they were the ones who had brought him here—even so, he was happy to be civil. Her concern was clearly for the safety of her friends, and that was something Jack could see eye to eye with.

With time he’d gain her trust; he just had to prove himself trustworthy first, and so long as they also turned out to be trustworthy then that wouldn’t be an issue. Jack was nothing if not loyal to his friends. 

“So, Jackson, what exactly is it that you’re doing here?!” Astrid questioned her hands resting on her hips, the action reminded him a lot of North, he supposed in many ways she was a lot like the Guardian of Wonder; protective of her friends and intimidating when necessary, he wondered if there was a jolly bone in her body, so far he was fairly sure the scowl was a permanent feature. 

Jack studied her for a moment, as he sat drumming his fingers on his knees—he wanted to hold onto his staff but Hiccup must have moved it before he woke; it was now nowhere to be found and he was also fairly sure Astrid wouldn’t take kindly to him having hold of any sort of perceived weapon—“Looking for something, and someone” Jack offered, really wishing he had his hoodie to hide in, starting to feel exposed under the scrutiny of the blue-eyed girl. 

“What and who exactly are you looking for?” Astrid responded immediately, notably dissatisfied by Jack's rather evasive response. 

“I can’t tell you that,” murmured the smaller teen, his fingers curled into the furs trying to cling to his nerve. All eyes in the room had turned to him, and whilst over the years he had grown more used to being seen, here in a room full of strangers where no one trusted him or knew who he was he very much wished he could disappear. 

“And why not” hissed Astrid, as she took several steps closer to the smaller boy. Her fingers reflexively moved to grab her axe which luckily for the young Guardian was currently not present. 

“Ah, come on Astrid! Jack’s only just woken up, do we need to do the whole interrogation thing now?” Hiccup exclaimed stepping in front of his fellow rider before she could get any closer to the already clearly uncomfortable boy. 

“Yes, Hiccup. He needs to tell me why we should trust him when he’s not being honest!” Astrid snapped back, jabbing her finger in the direction of the mortal-spirit. 

And that was the last straw for Jack, he wasn’t about to sit and listen to someone berate him over his honesty when they had made it very clear he wasn’t trustworthy in their eyes anyway.

It made no sense to demand honesty from someone you couldn’t trust to begin with. He himself wouldn’t believe one plus one equaled two if it came out of Pitch’s mouth. 

“Because you brought me here. I don’t even know where here is. I don’t know who you are. I’m the one on my own here. So I’m sorry if I’m a little uncomfortable giving away all my secrets, but perhaps you could be just a touch more understanding of the fact that I need a bit more time to decide if I can trust you. I’d also appreciate it if you could judge me based on my actions and not just your assumptions of how honest I’m being because regardless of my honesty, what are the chances that you’d believe anything I said right now anyway?!” Jack heaved breathlessly as he finished, looking up at the girl, his knuckles white from his clenched hold on the furs. 

He was surprised to see that the girl looked a little taken aback by his outburst. He thought for a brief moment he saw a flicker of respect in the girl’s eyes before it was replaced by the usual look of discontent. 

“Okay, but you’re not being left alone, not until we trust you,” Astrid stated somewhat more subtly than her earlier interrogation attempt, she then promptly turned on her heels and marched out of the hut.

“Sorry about Astrid, she really knows how to put the fear of Odin into someone” Jested the auburn-haired dragon rider, trying to lighten the mood in the hut. 

“Yeah, Astrid just worries because the last time we trusted someone they tried to steal something from us” informed the girl nut, seeming to actually pick up on the serious atmosphere in the room, which Jack was surprised she was actually capable of. 

“And don’t forget they also tried to steal her dragon” The boy nut interjected enthusiastically. “And Astrid was the one, who from the very beginning had been telling Hiccup not to trust them, remember that Hiccup,” Tuffnut chuckled to himself, “Hiccup was far too busy crushing on her,”

“Oh yeah, too right brother of mine. Definitely blinded by those heart eyes, if ya’ know what I mean,” quipped Ruffnut, grinning along with her brother. So maybe she wasn’t as good at picking up on the atmosphere as Jack had first thought. 

“Uh yeah, no. I did not have a crush on Heather, and I did not have heart eyes or whatever it is you too mutton heads are on about.” Hiccup droned, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. 

“Su-uuure Hiccup, just like Astrid is just a friend” Tuffnut nudged Hiccup, a wicked grin plastered on his face. 

“Astrid IS just a friend Tuff” Hiccup deadpanned, staring at his fellow rider straight-faced. 

“Ha yeah, and our great aunt Yagmur was a yak” scoffed the Zippleback rider. 

“Uh, but great aunt Yagmur was a yak” Ruffnut shrugged nonchalantly.

“Exactly!” proclaimed Tuffnut, before a quizzical expression claimed his features and he whipped around to stare at his twin. “Wait, what?” 

“Hey, Hiccup you know Astrid’s going completely crazy out there, right? She’s running the night terrors through training drills again” A voice sounded from the doorway, as Snotlout strode into the hut, staring over his shoulder—presumably at the training shieldmaiden—before turning and catching sight of the full room. “Wait, was there a meeting I forgot about again, or is this a party, because if so— uh, why wasn’t I invited? I mean I'm clearly the coolest person on this island.” The brunet huffed in indignance. 

Jack held back a small laugh at the Viking’s choice of phrasing,  _ ‘No, the coolest person on the island would be me, at least if I had my powers.’ _

“No, Snotlout there’s no party and you didn’t forget a meeting,” Hiccup drawled, trying to ignore the bickering twins in the corner, who had taken to beating each other with their branches, sending bits of twig and leaf flying across Hiccup’s hut. 

“Ha, of course not, who would throw a party without me!” Snotlout boasted, his unsure expression betraying his show of confidence. “So, what is going on?”

“An interrogation” Jack contributed with a shrug; all of a sudden remembering that he was actually visible and able to partake in the events.

“Oh, an interrogation, I see… Wait, he’s awake?!” Snotlout gawked, his eyes fixed on the mortal-spirit “And you started interrogating him without me?!” 

“Oh, it wasn’t my interrogation” Jack hummed, a smile gracing his lips as he glanced up at the groaning leader of the group.

“Yeah, we were just talking about Heather and how Hiccup had a crush on her” Fishlegs reassured with a nod of his head. 

“Oh come on Fishlegs, not you too,” Hiccup grumbled, shooting the Gronckle rider a withering glare. 

“Oh, well,” the brunet stood straighter, nodding as he took in the information, a self-satisfied smirk forming on the short Vikings face. “Don’t feel too bad Hiccup, we all know Heather preferred me. I am the obviously superior Viking, but you’ll find someone someday” 

“Thank you for that Snotlout, that instills me with such surety” came the sardonic response of the auburn-haired rider. Upon seeing Snotlout readying a reply Hiccup held up his hands, quieting the room with his quick interruption “And with that, let’s meet in the Club House at noon. We can discuss and properly meet our guest then, but first let's actually give him some time to wake up before we bombard him any more than necessary. Thank you and goodbye” Hiccup finished with a flourishing wave towards the door, giving the other occupants of the hut no room to contest as he eyed them all one by one. The group slowly disbanded with a variety of shrugs and grumbles.

Jack remained seated in the furs, watching as the weary rider fell back onto his stool, legs kicked out in front of him, massaging the thigh of his left leg. Jack couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped him when the door was dropped behind the last of them. “Did you really need to use me as an excuse to get them out of your hut?” 

“Oh yes, they do not know when to stop,” Hiccup remarked dryly, “Anyway, I figured you’re probably hungry and could do with some time to actually process everything, I know they can all be pretty in your face,” 

“Oh very in your face, with branches apparently,” Jack jested wryly “Thanks though, it was getting a bit… Overwhelming. I can see what you meant, about needing as much rest as I could get,”

“Don’t worry about it, they all mean well… Well most of them at least,” The auburn-haired rider had crossed the room towards the fire and a basket that Jack was almost positive hadn’t been there when he went to sleep. He briefly wondered just how long Hiccup had been awake before the twins arrived. 

“You know we’re going to have to figure out what to do with you at the meeting because as unfortunate as it is, we can’t exactly just let you go without knowing for certain that you aren’t working for Dagur,” A sigh escaped the rider whose back was turned to Jack and continued on with whatever it was he was doing by the fire. 

The mortal-spirit nodded in confusion at the statement before he remembered Hiccup wasn’t actually looking at him “Uh, okay. I don’t know what or who that is. Not that saying that is exactly helpful, after all, who would say they knew someone if they were trying to prove that they weren’t working for them... That would be dumb,” Jack rambled, letting the words escape him unchecked before he shook his head to himself. 

He exhaled slowly; kicking off the furs before crawling the short distance over to Hiccup—he wasn’t going to even attempt walking without his staff. His ankle was already unhappy with him from the previous night's endeavors—who was in the midst of pushing Toothless’s head away from what he was doing, which now Jack was closer he could see was cooking fish. 

“Ah, so he’s not just a dragon rider and resident mediator he’s also a cook. I lucked out,” Jack chuckled as Hiccup rolled his eyes good-naturedly. 

“Well I can’t go letting you starve, and Astrid would definitely skin me alive if I accepted food from a stranger,” Hiccup hummed sporting a crooked smile. 

“She is a smart one that Astrid. Well, I’ll just have to trust you not to poison me,” Jack watched Hiccup fend off Toothless—who appeared to have appointed himself, quality control expert—as he turned the fish in the hearth. 

“I wouldn’t worry about that, Toothless would never let me live it down if I were to spoil a good fish. Right, bud?’ Hiccup chuckled petting his dragon companion who was giving Hiccup a rather serious staredown at the possible insinuation of ‘ruining a good fish’.

Toothless ended his obviously telepathic lecture over the sacrality of fish with a loud grumble. His tail flicked out like a displeased feline, clipping the back of the riders head, causing Hiccup to yelp in surprise, as the dragon stuck his own head straight into the basket beside him. Which as it turned out was full of fish, or rather, had been full of fish—Jack was certain Jamie’s mother would go crazy for a hoover that could vacuum up dirt as well as Toothless did fish—Jack watched on in amusement as rider and dragon seemed to mimic one another’s grumbles and glares.

“Ah I see, so you’re telling me to stick to the fish then, got it,” Jack hummed, tapping his chin, whilst giving Hiccup a playful searching look. “But then do I trust the words of a stranger? You’re giving me mixed messages here,”

“Well… If you don’t want the fish, I'm sure Toothless would be happy to eat it in your stead” Shrugged the auburn-haired Viking with an impish twinkle in his forest-green eyes. Slowly inching the fish closer to the dragon, who was now sizing up the cooked treat with the basket left empty. 

“What! No!” Squawked the mortal-spirit, his eyes widening reaching for the skewer in trepidation, his lower lip jutting out into a childish pout. “That’s not fair, I thought you said you couldn’t starve me?!” Jack whined, making small grabbing motions in the direction of the food. 

“Okay, okay,” Hiccup chuckled holding out the fish to Jack with a grin, he couldn’t deny that the sight of the snowy-haired boy's pout was adorable. That wasn’t something he could say about anyone else he knew in the archipelago; especially not any of the guys he knew, and just imagining one of his friends pulling that face made his skin crawl. Vikings did not do ‘adorable’. He was fairly sure if he ever called Astrid such a name she would be after him with her axe screaming for him to take it back. 

The boy’s reactions were just so intriguing to Hiccup. They were so vastly different to the reactions of his friends and those he’d grown up with. It made him want to tease the boy more, just to see what he would do next, but the grin that broke out on the young teen’s face when the fish was in his hands made him hold back for now. Jack was almost glowing with excitement, like a child on Snoggletog morning, so Hiccup decided to enjoy the sight for a while longer. There was plenty of time to sate his curiosity later. 

“Yay!” Jack cheered once the food was in his hold, the scent of the grilled fish was tantalizing, he felt saliva building in his mouth as he drew the fish closer to himself, readying himself for the first bite. A loud growl from his stomach startled him into an uncomfortable realization; this was the first time he had actually needed to eat in over 300 years. 

There was a difference between sneaking a cookie at the pole just for the taste of it and actually needing to eat something to calm growing hunger pains; a pain Jack now noticed had begun to gnaw at his insides. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the new development.

He had tried not to think about it too much so far, his sudden mortality—he wondered if the nightmare he had suffered that past night had simply been his subconscious trying to remind him of his current state, he half hoped that was the case—sure he could still feel pain as a spirit, it didn’t last as long and he healed quickly, but it wasn’t unusual. There had been many days during his first few months as a spirit where he had ended up with quite a few crash-related injuries. Of course now that he and the wind better understood each other that didn’t happen—as much—but back then he was rather glad for his quick healing. So the pain he felt now, wasn’t all that dissimilar to his life as a spirit, but hunger, hunger definitely was.

After he had come to terms with the fact he had once been alive he couldn’t deny there was a small sense of bitterness. He had lost his life so young, he didn’t get to see his family, see his sister, live a life as everyone else had. That didn’t mean he would ever wish to change what he had done. He had saved his sister's life, and he would make that choice again and again if he had to, but now being mortal, or as close to it as he was, he wasn’t sure if he was happy or scared. 

Mortality put him right back where he had been when he was just Jackson Overland. Back to a time when the only thing he could offer in the way of saving his sister was his own life. Could he really complete his mission like this? With no powers and without the other guardians? or was he going to end up getting himself killed for good this time? He wasn’t sure, and it terrified him.

But he also couldn’t help the small sense of euphoria it gave him. This was a chance; a chance to live as a mortal again. To enjoy warmth and food and actually be seen by people. To be seen without having to be believed in. He wasn’t invisible anymore, he didn’t have to put on a grand show and flaunt his powers to get people to notice him. They just saw him for him. The excitement built like a swarm of butterflies inside him—though Jack thought they felt more like an erratic swarm of tiny tooth fairies—and he really wanted to enjoy the mortality whilst he was able.

A warm scaly snout pressing into his cheek had Jack quickly snapping back to reality. Toothless had settled beside him, towering over him as the dragon sat back on his hind legs, like a patient dog awaiting a treat—said treat being Jack’s meal—the mortal-spirit glanced over at Hiccup, who was looking back at him. His eyebrow raised in amusement, having clearly noticed Jack had been lost in his own thoughts for a time. 

Toothless’ tongue licked across his wide maw in anticipation. Eyes jumping between Jack and the food, wanting to know if he was going to eat it. 

“You know, if you don’t want it, Toothless would be…” Hiccup began again with a teasing smile. Trying to bring back the excited grin that had fallen from the once snow-bringers face whilst lost in his thoughts.

“No!” Jack cut in before the rider had a chance to finish. He cast the teen a playful scowl as he held the fish closer to his person.

“It’s mine!” He grumbled, taking as large a bit as possible—he had debated licking it, to claim it as his own, but felt that wouldn’t be enough to off put the dragon—it was definitely an unusual taste, but then the most he had eaten in the last 300 years was the odd overly sugary Christmas treat and a stray piece of popcorn here and there during whatever film Jamie had managed to make him sit still—and inside— long enough to get through. 

There wasn’t a lot of seasoning, mostly it seemed salty; perhaps it was just that it was savory that was throwing the boy for a loop. It was cooked well, however, and he was hungry enough to eat one of the elves licked cookies at this point, so salty fish was definitely closer to the top of the list of things he’d rather consume.

“Are you alright, Jack?” Hiccup broke through the silence that had descended upon the room as they ate.

“Huh?”Jack gave Hiccup a searching look “Yeah, why?” he continued, taking another—smaller—bite of fish. 

“You, weren’t really with us for a second there,” The auburn-haired teen remarked with a smile. Jack was beginning to enjoy the sight of that smile. There was something in the crooked, slightly gap-toothed expression that sent a dizzying flood of warmth through him. It chased away all his insecurities and worries, which was both disarming and dangerous in Jack's opinion because it made him want to tell the boy everything. 

“Ah…” He breathed, letting out a soft airy laugh. “Sorry, I got a little lost in my head, a lot has happened and It’s all playing on my mind I guess, it just struck me that this is the first time I’ve eaten like this in a while,” He had taken to staring at his hands as he spoke, he wasn’t lying. Not really and that made him feel better. He didn’t want to lie any more than he had to with Hiccup. Even if that meant admitting things that could sound unusual to the teen. 

Jack had anticipated many reactions, mostly he had expected questions, lots of them, and perhaps some mild confusion. What he wasn’t expecting was the gentle gaze that softened the rider's features. It made his chest ache. When was the last time someone actually looked at him with something akin to compassion?

He knew that the Guardians and the Burgess kids cared for him, but with the other Guardians in all instances, it always seemed like pity to him. He had heard their apologies too many times; the ‘Sorry we didn’t help you before’ and ‘If we had known sooner’ but those words always left him feeling cold—no pun intended—because he had tried so many times to talk to them.

Each visit to North’s had resulted in him being thrown out, without even a glimpse of the man in red, and Bunny had only even started to acknowledge him after the blizzard of 68’ no matter how many attempts he had made before. Jack had never been entirely sure if they had intended to ignore his existence, or if they had simply been too wrapped up in their duties. 

Nevertheless, the years prior to becoming a Guardian, Jack had felt as if he didn’t even exist to the others—which may have resulted in a few desperate attempts for attention over the years, such as the resulting blizzard of 68’, not that he would ever admit that to Bunny. It was after all still a touchy subject with the Guardian of Hope—so as much as he accepted their words as truth, it didn’t mend the damage that had been done in the past. Still, he didn’t want their pity now; now all he wanted was someone to listen to him. Someone to understand him. Someone other than Pitch Black that is. 

And that’s what he felt, sitting with Hiccup, being as close to mortal as he could get, it really felt like Hiccup cared. Sure there was no way Hiccup could really understand what was bothering him—he wasn’t sure anyone ever truly would understand that—but to be listened to without judgment, pity, or false idolization; to just be seen as a person with their own troubles, Jack was so incredibly grateful to the freckled boy in front of him for that alone.

“Oh, I get that,” Hiccup chuckled softly—the words soothing the unseen fractures of the once snow-bringers delicate being—shifting his legs to get more comfortable next to the snowy-haired teen. “A lot has been happening recently around here too, which is why Astrid is pretty touchy about strangers,” The dragon rider sent Jack an apologetic smile and let his head loll to the side in thought.

“There's always so much going on, I never know what to do first or how I’m going to fix it. If I even can fix it. I can definitely relate to getting lost in your own thoughts, but I also find that relying on those around you can be helpful. I know you can’t trust me yet Jack, but if there's something you want to talk about, don’t bottle it up alright. Even if you don’t talk to me, at least talk to someone” Hiccup turned to the mortal-spirit offering him another soft smile, whilst resting his hand on the boy's knee and gave it a reassuring squeeze. A nervous look crossed his face. “Just maybe don’t listen to anything the twins suggest…” He added with an awkward laugh.

Jack let the rider’s words sink in, it was laughable to him how one simple display of pure unabashed kindness had him struggling to rein in all his worries and secrets. How everything had slipped onto his tongue as effortlessly as Nightmares from the shadows. 

A soft peel of laughter escaped him, at the worried expression on Hiccup’s face. The twins definitely seemed like a blast to him, but he was sure the rider was right and any advice from the twins would likely result in some form of property damage if not catastrophic destruction.

Worry continued to crease the chief to be’s brow, causing the soft laughter of the snowy-haired boy to ebb into an amused smile. He hummed in mock thought. “Thanks, Hiccup, I’ll be sure to remember that,” Raising his hand he gently prodded the rider between the eyes, pushing up to smooth out the furrow that had formed there. 

“You know if you keep pulling that face and the wind changes you’ll be stuck like that,” Jack teased affably. An amusing thought crossed his mind that if Hiccup was stuck that way he’d have to start calling him Worf since the wrinkles were reminiscent of a Klingon—and because Worf was the only Klingon Jack could remember the name of—his finger continued to smooth the surprisingly soft skin between Hiccup’s brows. A twitch in the muscle under his finger had him returning to the present. 

One of Hiccup’s brows had risen in confusion, and the rider had gone cross-eyed in an attempt to see what Jack was doing to his forehead. The sight caused the snowy-haired boy to double over in laughter once more. 

A screech of gears being wound too quickly and the rattle of chains being pulled taut cut Jack’s merriment short. The room which had been held in the careful cocoon of midday shadows was now ablaze with blinding light. The world outside the hut had continued on around them faster than they had realized. 

The sun had risen high into the sky, its harsh glare now painting multicoloured streaks across their vision, stinging their sensitive retinas with its acid-like intensity—Jack considered the use of bright lights on the Nightmare King the next time he ran into him. He was debating if it would be even more painful for the shade—there was a brief moment of silence—as the boys tried to clear the colour from their eyes—and then a loud  _ thud _ as something hit the ground only a foot from where the boys sat, followed by a single shrill  _ squawk.  _

Their eyes now better adjusted to the light, were finally able to make out the source of the commotion. A small white dragon lay sprawled on the hardwood floor before them. It’s wings outstretched and chest heaving. Jack was in awe of the creature's small size. It reminded him a lot of the African grey parrot that Monty’s family owned, just less feathery and more lizard-like. 

“Smidvarg?” Hiccup breathed in surprise, his eyes widening comically as he glanced out the door and up at the sky. “Oh Thor almighty, we’re late!”

Smidvarg squawked again, flapping its wings but otherwise making no attempt to move. 

“Come on Jack, we need to get going before Astrid exhausts all the Night Terrors and comes looking for us to put through training drills,” Hiccup had shot across the room towards the Night Fury faster than Jack had a chance to blink. 

“It’ll be faster if we take Toothless, come on!” He had mounted the dragon and was staring at Jack now clearly concerned about their timeliness and how Jack had yet to move.

Jack on his part had been left sitting dumbfounded by the urgency at which Hiccup had reacted. Judging by the brief encounter with the shieldmaiden he figured it was best to do as the rider said, especially considering how jittery the teen was getting. He took it as his sign to get up, but that was going to be harder said than done without his staff and with the current state of his ankle. Today even sitting he could feel the incessant throbbing around the wound. 

“Um, Hiccup,” Jack mused, pushing down the smile that crept onto his lips when the rider startled at his voice—clearly already imagining whatever it was Astrid was likely to do if she came looking for them—“Whilst I’m fully understanding of your caution, could I… maybe… have my staff back?” The boy had pushed himself to his feet, all his weight shifted to his left leg as he held his right hesitantly a fraction off of the ground.

“Oh gods, of course!” Hiccup groaned, a hand running down his face—visibly berating his lack of consciousness, over the boy's injury—and slid off the dragon once again. He pulled Jack's staff out from its current hiding place, stood inside a large barrel that was pushed up against the side of his desk, various pieces of metal and rolled up parchment alongside it. A small sheet of fabric, thrown over the top to cover the hook. “I had to hide it when the twins got here, otherwise Odin knows what they’d have tried to do with it,” 

Jack had a vague idea of what the twins would have tried to do with it, and in retrospect was glad that Hiccup had hidden it. Twiner was not something he particularly wanted to be smacked in the face with. 

He breathed out a shaky “Thanks,” when his fingers curled around the gnarled wood once more. Relief washed over him, at the feel of the familiar weight in his hand—it was bad enough to be without the security of his hoodie, but not having his staff was a whole other level of uncomfortable. He had had Twinetender by his side for over 300 years, to be without it now was like being without a part of himself—placing his weight against the pole he started to limp his way over to the rider. 

Hiccup waited patiently on the back of Toothless, still looking somewhat sheepish for the oversight. 

Jack was wary of the impending dragon ride, of course, he was fine with heights and flying. He’d done enough of it over the course of his three hundred years of immortal life, but that was all with the comforting knowledge of being immortal and relatively good friends with the wind. Now, however, he was flesh and blood mortal, so a fall from those heights could and would kill him. 

Plus to add to his current hesitancy he had no clue about the current state of his relationship with his blustery comrade, though he supposed Hiccup was equally as mortal—or at least he seemed to be. Jack hadn’t decided quite yet what was going on with the island of Vikings in the midst of the fairy realm—so he assumed he would be fine trusting him in this instance.

“Here, let me help you” Hiccup held out his hand to the mortal-spirit. 

“It’s alright, I’m good,” Taking one final look at the dragon, he kicked off with his good leg, pressing his weight down on his staff and swinging his right leg over Toothless’ back, settling remarkably gracefully behind Hiccup. He grinned at the slow blinking rider.

“I—I guess you are,” Hiccup retracted his still outstretched hand, reining in his astonishment at the nimbleness with which the boy had moved. He peered back at Jack, watching the boy settle himself onto the dragon looking far too pleased with himself for the small performance. 

A smirk worked its way onto the rider's lips—he wasn’t about to let Jack have all the fun—winking playfully at the smaller teen he purred. “You’re going to want to hold on to something,”

“Huh,” There was no time to process the words, but the look on Hiccup’s face clearly spelled trouble. 

He swiftly wrapped an arm around Hiccup’s midsection as Toothless sprang into action leaping through the entryway onto the platform outside, jostling Jack forward as he went and plastering the boy against the rider's back. 

“You have got to be kidding me—eeee,” Jack’s words drew into a startled cry that rapidly transformed into an excited whoop when the dragon darted over the ledge dropping a few feet before with one powerful beat of his wings they were sent soaring back upwards.

Hiccup’s laughter filtered through the rushing wind as they spun higher into the blue expanse above. Jack’s arm loosened around the teen's waist, his grin splitting his cheeks as he leaned back, breathing in a lung full of crisp cold air. 

It felt amazing to be in the air again, the wind tugging at his clothes, the sky like a vast ocean of nothingness in all directions.

It made everything else feel so little in comparison. It was freeing. 

Jack was able to see the island better now without the veil of smoke and darkness hindering his view. There were several more huts scattered across various levels throughout the area. Most of which were also perched precariously atop large platforms; all interconnected via wooden walkways, steep winding steps and an assortment of ladders—it was clear to Jack that the ladders and stairs weren’t used all that often, and he wondered if they were intended as some form of defense in the event of an invasion. Every route would require you to climb at least 5 ladders and 2 sets of stairs to get you somewhere that a dragon would get you in 2 seconds—each individual structure had its own unique carved roofline and intricate paint job which together appeared to resemble a hoard of large nesting dragons. 

The resulting damage of the Fireworm migration was evident, every structure scarred and scorched as if the beast-like buildings had settled a dispute amongst themselves through some kind of flame thrower throw down. The surrounding landscape was no better, dotted with charred patches of black where once Jack assumed had been trees and shrubbery.

As it turned out it was really only a short leap for Toothless to reach the Club House, but both rider and dragon seemed visibly excited to be up in the air and reluctant to land—Jack could understand perfectly the joy that radiated from them—so they circled the structure a handful of times before they alighted upon the platform.

The mortal-spirit was always surprised by the size of buildings. From above everything looked minuscule in contrast to its true magnitude. The Club House was one such building, it towered over the trio, it’s gargantuan entryway clearly designed to be accessed by dragon as well as rider. 

Jack slipped off the back of Toothless and leaned heavily against his staff, eyes glued to the exterior as he began to take in the full glory of it. Scanning over every carving and painted detail, drawing out a breathless “Wo—oooow,”

Turning to survey the rest of the building he came face to face—or rather face to five faces—with a flight of excited dragons. One of which—with two heads—was watching him with a mischievous sparkle in their eyes; reminding him all too much of the twins—It wouldn’t surprise him if the dragon was theirs—and the memory of branches in his face had him stepping back in caution. His back bumped into the soft underbelly of the Night Fury who was sitting on his hind legs once more. 

Toothless was looking between Jack and the group of dragons with an expression that the once snow-bringer couldn’t quite read—He felt, however, almost like he was the object of interest in the midst of a show and tell circle—the dragon who was giving him one of his best gummy smiles was warbling away to his group of cohorts, who snorted and grunted in response. Their attention latched on to the baffled boy between them. 

One of the dragons, a mighty red creature with an underbite that highlighted a row of razor-sharp teeth longer than his fingers, had started to make its way towards him. It’s head swayed as it walked and whilst pressing himself back into the belly of the Night Fury—and worrying briefly about the fact that the dragon appeared a little too interested in him—he wondered if it was due to the weight of the lengthy twisted horns on its head.

Toothless sensing Jack’s distress set his eyes on the incoming dragon, and in the time it took for the dragons eyes to narrow, where once a row of soft pink gums had been, now perfectly deadly pearly white teeth slid forth, followed swiftly by a warning growl that had the red dragon freezing in its place. 

Jack also froze, he was certain that the dragon hadn’t had teeth. ‘ _ What? But he’s called Toothless!’  _ Perhaps Hiccup had been equally as fooled when he named the dragon. At least now Toothiana wouldn’t have a heart attack when he told her all about the dragon called Toothless. In fact, he was sure these teeth could give his own a run for his money, in the eyes of the Fairy Queen. 

“Oi, Hiccup! Don’t let Toothless growl at hooky! You know how sensitive he is!” Snotlout bellowed as he stomped over to his dragon. Babying the large creature with strokes to its snout and scratches under the chin. “There, there Hookfang it’s okay, Snotlout’s here”

Hookfang playing up to the attention, let out a pitiful whine and leaned into his rider's tender touch. 

“Ri—iiiiight,” Droned the auburn-haired rider who set his sight back on Jack—not taking any real notice of Snotlout— and smiled. “It’s alright, the dragons won’t hurt you. They’re just interested in you is all. You’ve been here for a week and they only got a brief look at you once. Well except Toothless and Meatlug, she follows Fishlegs everywhere and that includes into the hut when checking up on you,” He gestured to the short but stocky dragon—Jack had to give it to Fishlegs, the branches from that morning really did look like the dragon's wings—that was almost reminiscent of a bumblebee with its large body and small wings. How the creature was able to lift itself and the equally stocky rider he didn’t know, but it must have some incredible power behind it.

At the mention of their name, Meatlug came barrelling over with all the grace of a runaway boulder and began affectionately rubbing her nose against Jack’s stomach. Her ministrations become ever more excitable when Jack’s breathless laughter cut through the dragon's crooning as he was lifted off his feet. Balanced over the dragon’s snout. 

“Oh, wow! Hey, Meatlug, it’s nice to meet you too,” Jack chuckled as he’s set back down. His smile lit up his eyes as he turned to Hiccup; only ending up with Toothless’s head blocking his view. The large dragon was apparently jealous of the attention being given to the Gronckle, and was now warbling his displeasure. 

“Oh, you want some attention too huh big guy?” It amused him now—petting the smooth scales of the Night Fury, with the boulder of a dragon bouncing akin to an excitable dog beside him—how nervous the creatures had made him at first when in reality they all seemed like extremely needy house pets—house pets because he couldn’t pinpoint whether they behaved more like a cat, a dog, or some hybrid mix of the two—the loud croon emitted by the large dragon let the once snow-bringer know that he was forgiven. 

“Oh, I’m forgiven, huh?” Jack gave the dragon a playful searching look. A yelp soon followed as he stumbled back, shifting his staff in front of himself across his body trying to escape and block the large slobbery tongue that burst from the Night Fury’s mouth, and coated the side of his head in the beasts slimy saliva, sticking his white locks on end. “Eugh, Toothless!” 

A snort broke free of the auburn-haired rider shortly followed by desperate breathless cackles. “O—Oh gods,” Hiccup breathed at the sight of the pouting boy who was desperately trying to wipe the slobber from his face and smooth down his already wild tresses. “Th—that—Oh Gods, that doesn’t wash out,’’ he snorted again trying to catch his breath, but each time dissolving back into breathless gasps. It was great to see someone else suffer what was so often his fate.

Jack threw Hiccup a small half-hearted glare. His attention was drawn away by the twin-headed dragon that had rather stealthily snuck up behind him and caught him between their serpent-like necks. Their identical faces pressed in close enough for him to smell the fish on their breath, causing his nose to wrinkle at the offensive odor. 

“Hey! This is dragon favoritism,” A voice sounded from one of the heads. 

“Yeah! Dragon favoritism! Toothless shouldn’t get all the attention!” A voice sounded from the other. Jack stood startled, eyes flickering between the two talking dragon heads. 

“W-What?” He breathed. A movement caught out of the corner of his eye, led him to turn around.

“We said it’s dragon favoritism” An impish grin grew upon the boy twin's face as he leaned against the side of his dragon, arms slung across his chest casually. 

“Yeah, Barf and Belch want attention too! You can’t just pay attention to Toothless,” A voice sounded from the other side of the dragon, where the girl twin stood, the mirror image of her brother. 

Of course being twins they were very similar but those similarities went as far as their outfits. Linen tunics, hide vests, and leggings, knee-high boots, leather bracers, matching dragon tooth necklaces, and horned helmets. The only real differences being the differing colours; lengths of items and that Ruffnut wore an additional tight leather vest between her tunic and outer vest that stopped inches from the bottom of the garment beneath it. Lacing up the front to give an almost corseted appearance. Both had long dirty blond hair, pale blue eyes, and matching wicked grins. 

Hiccup moved himself to stand beside Jack, wary of the twins' motivation for bothering the boy. “Ruff, Tuff, why can’t you give your dragons attention?” 

“Uh, no can do, H. Chicken wants my attention. Right Chicken?” Tuff replied readily, holding out a chicken—Jack had no clue where he pulled it from—that clucked in agreement and ruffled its feathers, settling down in the rider's arms. The blond-haired rider began to coo at the animal and stroke its soft plumage, rocking the fowl to sleep. 

Jack wasn’t quite sure what was happening, but it was definitely entertaining. 

“Okay, that doesn’t explain why Ruffnut can’t do it though,” Hiccup hummed, eyeing the girl rider. 

“Simple, Hiccup,” The girl nut started, petting the dragon's side. “It’s his attention they want,” A devilish grin claimed her features as the dragons' heads wrapped themselves around Jack like two large pythons. Drawing a breathless gasp from the boy as they lifted him off his feet, dangling him upside down. 

The dragon’s grinning faces—matching their riders—pressed into his cheeks. The tops of their heads inches away from the wood of the platform, the hook of Jack’s staff knocking against the ground as they swayed. 

“Soooooo,” Jack hummed when the shock wore off, looking between the dragon’s faces and glancing up at the group around him. “As much as I’m enjoying ha—aaanging out with you guys, I’d also like the blood to stop rushing to my head now,” A smile tugged at his lips seeing the auburn-haired rider groan at his choice of phrase.

“Barf, Belch. Put Jackson down, gently.” Hiccup ordered, putting added emphasis on gently as he did, pointing to the ground. 

The dragon’s shared a look, a flicker of defiance crossing their matching citrus yellow orbs. Their necks unwound like a helicopter taking flight leaving the snowy-haired boy hanging in mid-air for a split second before gravity took hold and he began to fall. 

His free arm shot out, palm bracing him against the ground in a one-armed handstand before he pushed off flipping himself onto his feet, cringing as he forgot not to put weight onto his right leg and wobbled back in pain.

A harsh gust of wind caught against his back, carrying with it the scent of pine and sea salt, billowing up the back of his oversized tunic. He glanced over his shoulder, the direction of the wind throwing him off guard, his chest constricted at what he saw, the edge was far closer than he had accounted for. 

He had been not even an inch away from plummeting to his death had he landed just a fraction closer than planned. He needed to be more careful. 

Hiccup’s hand found his own, tugging him back towards a safer location. “Wow, careful there,” The rider mused, once again stunned by the boy's display of agility. 

“Ah, yeah thanks,” Jack switched his hold on his staff, letting his fingers lock around the base of the hook, and hung his weight against the pole. Eyeing the twin-headed dragon and its riders in suspicion. He wasn’t about to forget the stunt they pulled and would be sure to claim his revenge. No one bested him at a good prank. 

“Well, we better get in there,” Hiccup murmured mostly to himself, swinging his arms at his sides and rocking from foot to prosthetic; not looking forward to having to deal with the wrath of the shieldmaiden for their tardiness. He had been expecting the girl to be outside waiting for them when they arrived. She hadn’t been, and now he feared the possible reasons for her to not be. 

Stormfly had positioned herself between them and the door and was watching the mortal-spirit with interest. It was evident in the tilt of her head and the continuous shifting of wings and feet that the Dragon was picking up on its rider's mood and as such appeared wary of the unknown stranger. They clearly wouldn’t be getting inside until she decided if Jack were friend or foe.

“Hey, it’s alright Stormfly. He’s okay. He’s not going to hurt us,” Hiccup soothed, raising a hand to calm the agitated dragon. For all her fussing, he was surprised by how mild her reaction to the situation was. Typically with the mood, Astrid was in Stormfly’s behavior became wildly unpredictable and unreasonable. 

The Dragon and her rider had always been on the same wavelength when it came to each other’s emotional states, and Stormfly being one of the more loyal dragon’s always did what she could to assist her rider. Including chasing off whatever it was that caused her rider such distress. 

Which was what Hiccup had expected, but Stormfly’s behavior didn’t suggest she was going to do that. In fact, she seemed more inquisitive than anything; as if she wasn’t sure what about the boy was so bothersome to the shieldmaiden. 

The Nadder proceeded to cock her head and stare down at the once snow-bringer. Jack averted his gaze, not wanting to give the dragon any reason to feel threatened.

Hiccup sensing no real danger towards the boy decided to diffuse the tension. “Come here,” With a gentle tug he pulled the boy into his side. “Hold out your hand, like this,” He extended his own hand to the dragon waiting for Jack to do as asked. 

The mortal-spirit was apprehensive but complied, lifting his hand slowly. His gaze flickered between his appendage and the rider. “A—Alright?”

“That’s it,” Hiccup’s face brightened at the sight, crooked smile in place. “Now, keep it there, but don’t lookup. Just wait,” The teen finished in a breathless rush. 

Hiccup's enthusiasm was almost tangible, Jack let it bolster his resolve to play along with the instructions, hoping that this wasn’t some prank. He kept his eyes on the ground and left his hand where it was. The distant chatter of dragons filtered through the silence as he waited. 

It all seemed a little ridiculous to him, what was the dragon going to do? Shake his hand? Bite it off? 

Hiccup held his breath, Jack hadn’t shown any aggression towards the dragons. He had welcomed them all well enough, even after Barf and Belch seemed to attempt some sort of hazing on the boy. If he could handle their harassment without annoyance Hiccup was sure Jack meant no harm to the dragons

Hiccup was grateful for the display of trust, he knew how nerve-wracking it could be to offer yourself up blindly to a dragon, never knowing if they’d accept you or not. He was hoping that Stormfly would see the effort the boy was making in way of befriending her. Astrid might not be one to trust blindly, but Stormfly had her own mind and it wasn’t uncommon for the dragon to take to something that the shieldmaiden wasn’t as fond of. 

Stormfly who had been inspecting the boy honed in on the outstretched hand. Her head cocked from side to side to stare at the appendage with each of her large orbs. The seconds it took for the dragon to make her decision felt like hours to those watching. However, it seemed that the Nadder had decided her rider was just misinformed and that the stranger held no ill intent as she pressed her snout into the boy's cold palm. 

Jack looked up slowly at the contact, his glacier blues meeting sunflower yellow, a grin splitting his cheeks as he’s greeted by the excited  _ squawk _ of the dragon. “Wow,”

“He’s doing it again,” Ruffnut declared having stopped to watch the interaction. 

“Ah, the hand thing, works every time,” Tuffnut quipped.

“So predictable,” Droned the Monstrous Nightmare rider. 

Hiccup exhaled in disdain before he began guiding Jack towards the door and away from the group.

They headed into the building, flanked by an assemblage of dragons and riders. Jack didn’t know what he had really expected of the interior, but he supposed he had expected more. That wasn’t to say that the Club House wasn’t grand and just as beautiful on the inside as it was on the out. It was just very empty. 

There were a few banners hanging from walls with stylized dragons painted on them. He wasn’t sure if they were decorative or served some kind of purpose—he’d be sure to ask Hiccup about them when he got the chance—one wall was occupied mostly by a large map, scribbles and notes dotted about it. 

Jack could tell even from a distance that it was drawn by various contributors, due to the choice of medium and style used to detail their findings. Wooden chairs and stools were scattered around, enough for the group before him, plus a few extra,s and in the centre of the room stood a large furnace; a wooden table built around it to seat the group, likely for use during meals and meetings. 

Astrid and Fishlegs stood off to the far side of the furnace, bent over the edge of the countertop, their attention drawn to something laid out on the table before them. Jack couldn’t see from the distance, but whatever the item was it had captivated the stocky Gronckle rider, who appeared to be excitedly gushing over it. 

Astrid, on the other hand, did not appear as enamored with the mystery item, and by the look, she was giving it was hoping her gaze was enough to set it ablaze. 

A cough from the chief to be had the pair wrapping up their conversation with a quick conspiratorial glance. 

“You’re late,” Astrid announced, her look to Hiccup firmly conveying that she would be speaking to him about his lack of punctuality later. 

“Yeah, I know. Sorry, Astrid, time got away from me,” Hiccup supplied, rubbing the back of his neck. He gave the shieldmaiden an apologetic smile, hoping to calm the girl's fury. It was unlikely to work, she was in one of her moods and wouldn’t be out of it until some semblance of order was restored with respect to their guest. 

“Uh-huh,” Was all the answer the shieldmaiden deigned to give. Her attention honing in on Jack as she pulled out a chair and pointed to it, her body language leaving no room for argument. “Sit,” 

“O—ooookay,” Jack drawled slowly, glancing between the chair and the shieldmaiden. He limped over to the offered position. Spinning to sit down, he let out an agitated huff when the shieldmaidens hand clamped over his shoulder and forcefully pushed him into the seat. 

“Now, we’re going to ask some questions and you’re going to answer. Once we’re done we’ll decide what to do with you,” Astrid announced.

Jack responded to the girl with a slow nod, rubbing at his sore assuredly bruising shoulder. He was getting an uneasy sense of déjà vu, remembering the day in North’s office when he had been interrogated over his centre. The similarities between the shieldmaiden and the Guardian of Wonder were only growing stronger in his mind. 

“Ooh gods, Astrid come on, do we have to do THAT?” Hiccup groaned hands flailing in the direction of the shieldmaiden and perturbed mortal-spirit

“Yes, Hiccup. Do you think your father would do it any differently?”

“Well… No—but I’m not my father, Astrid!” Hiccup bemoaned, “I mean, come on we’re not barbarians we can do this civilly!” His pleading did little to sway the shieldmaiden. 

“We have questions that need answers, and if he isn’t going to give them up willingly… Well then,” There was silence followed by a loud  _ clang  _ that echoed through the expansive Club House as an axe was dropped onto the countertop beside Jack. 

“Ah—haaa, sooooo your questions?” Jack croaked, eyeing the axe warily, his face draining of what little colour he had. 

“Odin have mercy,” Hiccup breathed.

“We’ll start off simply,” Astrid stated, drawing out her own chair and spinning it to straddle the seat, her arms draping over the back. 

The rest of the riders appeared to know better than to get in the girl’s way and had begun to draw out their own chairs and settle behind her to watch the show. The dragons had taken up sentry around the edges of the room and all watched on with caution. It was hard to tell if they were worried about Jack or for him, he was hoping it was the latter. 

Jolted from his reverie by the grinding of metal across wood he noted that Astrid had taken hold of the axe and now held it aloft, eyebrow raised. 

“Yeah, right simply. Let's start simply,” Jack laughed awkwardly glancing between the riders praying for mercy. 

“First question,” the shieldmaiden hummed pointing the axe at Jack. “How old are you?” 

Jack was a little taken aback by the question, not that it was particularly hard to answer; he was three hundred and twenty-two give or take. He supposed it depended really on how long he had been in the ice, but waking years, mortal for fourteen, immortal spirit for three hundred and eight. 

What was throwing him was what to answer the question with because he couldn’t very well tell them he was three hundred and twenty-two. There was no way they would believe that and they wanted honesty, but he also didn’t feel he could just say fourteen because sure he was frozen at fourteen but he didn’t feel he looked it, and he definitely wasn’t fourteen mentally. So he did what anyone under pressure did, he lied, convincingly. 

“Sixteen,” Jack supplied, looking up into Astrid's eyes as he did. His fingers curled around the staff in his hands doing his best not to fidget or give himself away through his body language. It was Jamie’s age so it would be easy for him to remember. A surprised murmur broke out in the room but was hushed by the quick-fire question that followed. 

“And where are you from?” 

Jack tilted his head white locks swaying into his vision, he quickly brushed them away. He didn’t really see the point lying over that—if they had never been outside the fairy realm they likely wouldn’t know the names of countries, towns, or cities so he just answered honestly. 

“Hawthorne,” It was the truth; it was where he was born, where he was raised and where he died, it was also where he was made again as Jack Frost. 

The shieldmaiden scowled at Fishlegs who was excitedly squealing beside her. 

“We have never heard of a place called Hawthorne,” Hiccup hummed, seeming to share an animated look with Fishlegs, over the prospect of new lands.

“That’s because I’m not from around here,” Jack answered again, happy to be answering truthfully, relaxing into his seat a little. 

“So, why are you? around here that is. Where are your parents? You’re only sixteen I’m sure they aren’t happy with you going off on your own.” Astrid huffed, apparently dissatisfied with her interrogation being interrupted. 

Jack debated which question to answer first, but decided to keep Astrid happy it was likely best to answer them in order. 

“As I said, I’m looking for someone and something. My parents are dead, but I’m sure they wouldn’t be happy that I was off on my own, you’re right,” Jack mused thinking over the last answer. 

He could remember his mother's face now, his sister Mary had been just like her. He too was similar, he had gotten his hair and eye colour from her. His father was still hazy in his mind. He hadn’t been around that often and the few memories he had now were fractured. Every memory viewed from behind, in the dark hours of the evening; peeking through the crack in his bedroom door to see his mother welcoming the man home with a fond smile. 

The next question came slower, Astrid trying to carefully sidestep the answer she had been given. She looked for a moment to regret asking but quickly sobered up and continued, tightening her grip around the axe as she did. 

“Why are you looking for this person, and this thing?” 

And here it was, the question he had been expecting from the very start of the interrogation. He had hoped to come up with an answer before it arrived but hadn’t managed to think of one as of yet. 

He took his time in answer, drumming his fingers against his staff as he thought of the best response to give the group. “Well, to put it plainly because it’s important. There’s a lot of people relying on me to find them. If I don’t, then I’ll be letting down the people I care about,” 

Jack kept staring up into the shieldmaidens eyes, he didn’t dare look away, even if he was curious as to how the others were receiving his words, he wanted to see how Astrid took it. The duplicate flicker of respect that once again flashed across the girl's orbs was well worth it—he was starting to believe he'd most definitely be able to win her over—it was enough to make him let go of the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. 

“And you’ll tell us what that is when you can?” Astrid hummed. Jack couldn’t work out if she was actually asking him a question or was just thinking out loud, but with the axe still held inches from him, he decided to answer just in case. 

“Yes, when I know it's safe, I’ll tell you,” It was decidedly the right choice. The tension that had been locked in the girl's stance drained away—she still seemed ready to swing her axe any second, but jack figured that was just part of her usual charm—her next question was raised with less malice. 

“If you’re not from around here, then how did you get here?” 

“Honestly, I don’t actually know,” Jack frowned. It was still confounding to him how he went through a tree and ended up in the middle of the ocean. Had Hiccup and Toothless not found him he would most certainly have drowned. Surely there were better places for magical doorways, but then it struck him that fairies built the realm and most of them could fly, they wouldn’t just fall to their death. 

“My memory of things isn't always as it should be,” Jack imparted awkwardly, biting down on his lower lip to stop himself rambling. 

“Bucket has memory problems too!” Ruffnut exclaimed from the back of the group, sounding a little too excited for Jack's taste. 

“Yeah, but Bucket only has half a brain.” Tuffnut countered, “Wait, a minute!” The male was across the room in a flash, grabbing hold of Jack’s head, jerking it from side to side—so fast that Jack was sure he would end up with whiplash—squinting at the boy's scalp. “Do YOU only have half a brain, Jackson?” Tuffnut quizzed, not stopping his ministrations as he pushed and pulled at the mortal-spirits hair to check for any sign of damage to the boy's skull. 

“Uh, no? I’m fairly sure I have a full brain up there,” Jack's voice was muffled by the palm currently covering his mouth as Tuffnut pushed his head until it almost rested against his shoulder—apparently trying to stare into his ear to see his brain-his gaze met Hiccup’s sending the rider a silent cry for help. 

“Okay, Tuffnut. I think we’ve established Jackson has ALL of his brain,” Hiccup assured as he began to pry the Zippleback rider from the harried boy. 

“Yeah, which is more than we can be sure of about you Tuff,” Snotlout jeered. 

“Hey, our mother said she was sure he had his whole brain!” Ruffnut barked, jumping from her chair in offense. “How can you be so mean!” She wailed, pulling her brother against her chest—somehow managing to avoid the horns of his helmet—and began to stroke her brother's back in an overly dramatic display of comfort. “There, there brother. It’ll all be okay, mother said it's all there, don’t listen to the naysayers!” 

Hiccup’s loud groan was drowned out by the loud theatrical wails coming from the boy twin. Only for him to be silenced with a punch to the face when he decided to blow his nose into his sister's hair. 

Jack grimaced at the sight. 

“Memory problems,” Astrid voiced, the room falling quiet again. 

Ruffnut who was holding her brother in a headlock at the back of the room quickly let him drop to the floor, a loud  _ crack _ reverberated from the impact. Jack wanted to ask if the boy was okay but when no one else seemed worried about his well-being, he stayed quiet. Tuffnut stood perfectly fine moments later looking no worse for wear.

“Perhaps due to almost drowning? Oxygen deprivation can be detrimental to normal brain function,” Fishlegs recited, on Astrid’s left. 

“Perhaps,” Astrid concurred quietly, tapping her finger against her lips in thought. “Well, either way. There’s only one option that we have currently,” she stood, taking the axe with her, raising it over her head as she went. The snowy-haired teen gulped audibly. 

“Oh Thor, Astrid! No! We don’t need to do that!” Hiccup yelped at the sight of the raised axe. 

Astrid frowned, before raising an eyebrow. “Do what?” 

“That!” Hiccup wailed, gesturing to the axe. “We don’t need to kill him!”

“Hiccup?” Astrid inquired, 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m putting it away,” The shieldmaiden finished, slipping the axe over her shoulder into the holster she wore on her back. 

“Oh,” Hiccup breathed before chuckling awkwardly “Well then, please continue,”

“Thanks, as I was saying,” she eyed Hiccup before turning back to Jack. “Currently we only have one option, which is for you to stay with us. Well actually technically we have two; the second being to knock you out and dump you on some island somewhere. However, if you’re telling the truth then you’d be pretty stuck since the only way to get around the Archipelago is with a dragon or a boat, of which you have neither. So since we still can’t be sure if you’re working for Dagur or not, and Hiccup would never let us dump someone in need, the only feasible option is for you to stay here. Once we have better footing then we can talk again and go from there. For now, though, you’re not to be left alone.” The shieldmaiden took a breath, glancing around at the other riders. “Agreed?”

Fishlegs and Hiccup responded with quick nods, Jack saw Hiccup let out a relieved sigh as he did. Snotlout grunted but quickly nodded his agreement. 

Ruffnut shrugged before giving a non-committal “Sure,” effectively silencing whatever her brother was about to say by stuffing a dirty cloth she had pulled from his pocket into his mouth, laughing to herself as she did. “Tuff agrees too,” 

“Alright then, it’s unanimous. You stay,” the girl looked at Jack before she rounded on Hiccup. “And since you brought him here, he’s your responsibility,”

“As you command, milady,” Hiccup chimed cheerfully, giving Jack a small nod and playful smile. “Roommates it is,” the rider laughed, drawing a chuckle from the mortal-spirit. 

Jack supposed if he had to be stuck somewhere, this wasn’t the worst place. The group might be a bunch of oddballs, but they reminded him a lot of the Burgess kids, and if he wanted to complete his mission it was looking more and more like he was going to need their help. 

From what he could recall from the information he was given, he should have time. He had to believe in the other Guardians. There was no need to rush this, even if he shouldn’t dawdle. 

“With that out of the way, let's discuss the plan for clean up!” Astrid piped up, eliciting a collective groan from the rest of the riders, Jack was unable to quiet the soft bubble of laughter that left him at their reaction. 

This was going to be fun. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the word count ran away from me again... Mostly because I didn't want the entire chapter to be stuck inside Hiccup's hut. The next chapter probably won't be quite so long. (Eh?... We'll see, haha.)
> 
> Also, this is up much later than intended... Sorry about that.
> 
> I'm not 100% happy with this chapter but for my own sanity, I needed to move on.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who left comments on the last chapter. You're all great and really helped push me to get on with getting this chapter out for you all. Hope you all enjoyed it!


	4. Peripheries

Jack had never been one to enjoy sitting through meetings. The act itself—of listening to someone talk for any length of time—was challenging enough. There was always too much going on inside his head, to actively maintain a full understanding of the subject.

His attention was like that of a snowflake, on a calm day the snowflake would sail along leisurely until it reached its destination, but in the midst of a storm would spin wildly out of control.

He could handle a small flurry of information, but a winter storm was too much, and eventually, everything became a whiteout inside his head. A maelstrom of confusion that would spiral round and round never becoming any clearer, only swelling in size as forgotten thoughts were pulled from the depths. 

That wasn’t to say it was always the case, some days were better than others. Also, it helped if he had a particular interest in the subject. His biggest problem was that any little thing could set off a chain of thoughts that would lead him completely astray.

North once had tried to describe to him the innermost workings of one of his—at the time—latest toy designs and all Jack could remember now of the genuine conversation, was some kind of complex engineering with a smidge of North’s wonder thrown in. Jack assumed it was similar to his snowballs, imbued with the magic of his center to make them that little bit extra special.

He had tried to stay focused of course, he knew it was something North was passionate about, but what had actually been taking place in his head was rather far removed from the conversation at hand. 

It had started with whether or not North could make giant robots—like the ones from the shows that Jamie liked—and that's where things snowballed because that had somehow turned into North delivering presents from said giant robot; and that deviated to them all fighting Pitch from individual robots—of course, they could merge to form one extra giant Guardian robot—and then—very unfortunately in Jack’s opinion—things spurred off to North in a spandex suit. 

That was when the Guardian of Wonder—luckily—pulled Jack back to reality by asking if he had understood. Jack hadn’t but he wasn’t about to ask him to explain again, so he just nodded along. If only to quickly change the topic away from any subjects that could cause him to yet again picture the jolly old Guardian in spandex. 

His limited attention wasn’t anything new to him though, he had always been the same. Even in his mortal life, when the town held meetings—even when he was of age to sit in on them—he had always been told to go and play with the children. It wasn’t because the children needed minding, but because his parents had known just how much he struggled to stay focused. They called him a daydreamer, a boy always lost in his thoughts. He didn’t mind it, after all, it was in these strayed moments that he always came up with his best ideas for games and stories. 

It was due to his poor attention span that he was sure he’d end up getting off track during the meeting that followed his interrogation. He hadn’t expected to be quite so wrong. Hiccup and Astrid were incredibly short and to the point with their quick-fire orders, which meant Jack was able to keep up with everything that followed. Occasionally Fishlegs would pipe up with something and they’d get the odd grumble from Snotlout over some order or another, but otherwise he managed to take in everything that they were saying.

Jack was surprised to even get a few jobs here and there, though he could tell Hiccup was limiting the amount of work he gave to the boy, likely because of his injury, and he had figured out most of the work was somehow connected to one of the riders assigned jobs, if only so that they could keep an eye on him. It kept Astrid satisfied. 

Mostly it consisted of helping to clear the worst of the dead brush around the base, note the most damaged areas in need of repair, and do some general cleaning. He was also told he could help out with repainting, which was the job he was most looking forward to. 

It wasn’t until the twins asked for their jobs to be repeated and then started to complain about the amount of work that they had that Jack's focus started to wander. As his concentration drifted so did his gaze, it came to rest on the surface he had seen Astrid and Fishlegs leaning over when they had arrived earlier that afternoon. Now that he was closer he could make out the edge of a piece of parchment, but the rest was hidden from view by the raised lip of the furnace.

He couldn’t deny his curiosity, the pair's reactions couldn’t have been any more dissimilar. Astrid had looked at it with such vehement revulsion whilst Fishlegs had looked almost enamored. It only felt natural to Jack to wish to know what caused such responses. 

He glanced back at the group. The argument over duties had turned into a heated debate, even Snotlout had joined in with the hope of reducing his own workload. The twins seemed to teeter on the edge of an all-out brawl between themselves and Hiccup looked about ready to throw in the towel and be done with it. 

Jack, whilst interested in the outcome, was determined to use their distraction to his own advantage and turned back to the cause of his current curiosity. He rocked as far back in his chair as he could trying to get a better view around the edge of the furnace, he could make out some writing now. 

“Hey! That’s mine!” Jack stood abruptly, causing the chair to topple over and clatter loudly against the ground. The group fell quiet at the sudden commotion, all eyes now turned to him. Jack wasn’t paying them any mind at that moment though. He had quickly caught himself on his staff—to save putting weight on his ankle—and with his other hand snatched up the forgotten parchment. 

His eyes scanned over the letter scolding himself for having forgotten that the wizard had given him more than the strange icicle he wore. Jack was surprised to see that it had survived their dip in the ocean. It had curled and wrinkled upon drying and the ink had bled but luckily appeared to still be mostly legible, he didn’t recognize the handwriting, which meant it was most likely written by the old wizard. 

**_Jackson,_ **

**_You should now be inside the Aos sí realm. I’m sorry I can’t give you better direction but what little is known about the realm North and the others have already told you. The wonders of the realm are kept a well-guarded secret by the few who have returned_ **

**_Fairies by nature are tricky beings, and the Aos sí are no different. They may not be able to lie outright but by no means ever trust entirely what they say._ **

**_It can be easy to fall prey to the temptations of fairies, and in their own realm that temptation is likely to be felt sevenfold, you must stay vigilant._ **

**_Do not eat their food, Do not accept their hospitality, and by no means insult them. Fairies are fickle things._ **

**_Do not forget._ **

**_The Aos sí must be found. The powers that were stripped from you upon entry may only be returned to you by those that created the realm. The Aos sí will not do that willingly, you will need to strike a deal with them, but be wary, think carefully about how the deal is worded. You have to avoid their trickery at all costs._ **

**_Find and destroy the Nightmare Galleon. I cannot stress enough Jackson that both the Galleon and its crew must be eliminated. If either were to survive, the backing they would give to Pitch would insurmountably change the tide of the oncoming battle in their favor._ **

**_I must bid you caution, the realm is an ancient construct of wild magic, no doubt there are creatures there long forgotten to our histories. Whilst, not every being will be hostile there will be those who will not accept your presence there. Do not let down your guard._ **

**_Take heed Jackson, regardless of the outcome, if your powers are not returned to you by the time your thirty-seventh full moon there rises, you must return to us quickly. As by the setting of the thirty-eighth, your powers will be lost and you will return to the state in which you were, at the time your powers were bestowed_ **.

**_The charm I have left you will grant_ **

Ombric's words were cut off, it seemed he hadn’t finished writing when they had ended up clashing with the shade king. Below was a rushed mishmash of writing where the other Guardians had taken it in turn to write their own words for him. It made his chest swell with warmth, knowing that they had thought about him. 

It didn’t calm the swell of panic, ‘ _return to the state in which you were, at the time your powers were given’_ sure that would be fine for Bunny or North or any of the others, but him? He was dead. If he didn’t get his powers returned, Jack would die. 

Had the others known, did Ombric know? Had he ever actually spoken to the others and told them his story. He knew he’d mentioned to them that his powers were given to him because he’d saved his sister, was Pitch Black really the only one who knew the truth about his origins. 

And what had Ombric meant to say, ‘ _The charm I have left you will grant’_ Will grant what? A wish? If so then he’d used it hoping to understand Hiccup. Was that it? What if he needed it later on? What if he needed it to get home? How would he get back through the portal without his powers? He couldn’t fly. 

Jack could feel his breath coming in short sharp bursts, he was panicking. Everything was a mess, how was he supposed to do this alone. 

Fishlegs cleared his throat, drawing Jack's attention back to the group. 

“You can read that?” Fishlegs enquired with interest. 

Jack hadn’t noticed that his hands were trembling until he looked down at the parchment again, the page quivered in his grip. Caught off guard by Fishlegs words, it seemed no one had noticed his inner meltdown, or if they had they’d chosen to ignore it. 

“Of course,” It hadn’t occurred to Jack until that moment that the group couldn’t read what was written. In hindsight it should have struck him sooner, Hiccup hadn’t understood him to begin with, and the letter wasn’t written in runes. 

Fishlegs was sharing a look with Hiccup, the pair practically dripping with excitement. 

“Well, what does it say?” Fishlegs begged. 

Jack was startled by how quickly the rider had crossed the room, now towering over him. Fishlegs gaze switched between the parchment and Jack's face as if trying to direct Jack’s attention to the object of his interest—it reminded him of the way Jamie's dog Abby would beg for food, for attention, for someone to play—his eagerness simmered just beneath the surface. 

“Uh,” Jack let out a nervous breath, glancing down at the parchment before turning to Hiccup for help, he instead found the auburn-haired rider watching on with just as much enthusiasm. It seemed he wouldn’t be getting any help from Hiccup. 

“Fishlegs, perhaps the letter is private?” Astrid queried, brow-raising as she directed her attention away from Fishlegs and back to Jack. It seemed she had sensed Jack’s distress—or perhaps it was his paler than normal complexion—and had attempted to calm her friends probing. Jack's avoidance certainly wasn’t winning him any points with the shieldmaiden, however.

“Oh, I hadn’t thought about that.” The stocky boy deflated at the realization. 

“Well, it’s just… It’s private, yes-but,” Jack fumbled to answer. The part of him so set in bringing others joy, felt a sick sense of wrongness at being the cause of the look left on Fishlegs face. 

He scanned the letter in a hurry, searching for any part he could share with the group. He took a shaky breath, a small smile tugging at his lips as he ended up back at the scribbled message left by his friends. He looked up at Fishlegs holding up the letter, wanting to erase the sense of guilt that was eating at him. 

“I can’t tell you everything it says, but- okay so this, this says _Good luck, Jack. We’re rooting for you, try not to get lost and come home safely._ ” Jack had turned the parchment for Fishlegs to see, his finger traced across the page pointing to each individual word as he spoke. 

The look on Fishlegs face was comical, Jack was glad that Fishlegs didn’t look so sullen anymore. He hadn’t realized Hiccup had moved until the rider's voice was in his ear, so close that his breath tickled the back of his neck.

“So this is how you write your name?” Hiccup leaned over Jack’s shoulder, pointing to the word on the parchment. 

“Y-Yes, that's how you write my name” Jack stammered, feeling somewhat flustered by the sudden proximity of the auburn-haired rider. 

“Oh so, is this word Jackson then?” Fishlegs pondered pointing to the top of the letter where his name indeed preceded the bulk of the text. 

“Uh yeah, wow you guys really pick things up quick, huh?” Jack mused, taking a small step away from the pair, rolling up the parchment—happy for the distraction—he went to shove it into his hoodie pocket, only to remember as his hand brushed across his midsection that he wasn’t wearing it. His arm dropped awkwardly to his side, drumming the rolled-up letter against his thigh. 

“Well duh, they’re nerds,” Snotlout huffed from his seat. 

“No Snotlout, they just actually use their brains,” Astrid droned before knocking on the brunet's helmet “The same, however, can’t be said about you,” She remarked dryly, causing Snotlout to grumble and glare at the girl. 

“Oh haha, very funny Astrid,” Snotlout huffed in response. “I do use my brain, I just use it when it’s necessary, and not for pointless nerd… Stuff.” Snotlout flailed, trying and failing to vindicate himself. 

“Right well, we’re burning daylight,” Hiccup interjected, hoping to fend off any oncoming bickering match. “Everyone has their assigned jobs, so let's get to it, people! Jack, you’re with me.”

It didn’t take long for the room to clear after that, riders and dragons heading off in the directions of their assigned tasks. Jack followed Hiccup and the day drew on, the letter never strayed far from his thoughts. 

————

The next few days were spent similarly; the riders would meet early in the Club House, discuss the jobs for the day and then they’d all go about their business. 

So far he had spent his time being passed between Hiccup, Fishlegs, and Snotlout. As it was Hiccup was doing his utmost to keep him separated from the twins and whilst he hadn’t yet been made to work with Astrid he had found the girl was never far away. She was keeping her eye on him, watching his every move with bated suspicion. 

The second day he was there, Fishlegs had innocently asked Jack to pass him an axe—one Jack quickly established was much heavier than anticipated—and had found himself pinned to the ground with said axe to his throat by one angry-looking Astrid. Luckily Fishlegs had quickly resolved the situation and after that hadn't asked Jack to pass him any more sharp objects.

It had been unsettling, both for him and the other riders. No one but Hiccup had been brave enough to tempt the wrath of the shieldmaiden to get close to him, it was debatable as to whether or not that was ever going to change. 

His fourth day since waking up was set to be another Hiccup day; the rider had told him as they ate breakfast that morning and together they had planned to finish off repairing the stables. Hiccup was making a noticeable effort to keep Jack by his side after finding out about the incident with Astrid, but the shieldmaiden had other plans. 

“Ruff, Tuff you actually need to do some of your jobs today, boar pit repairs can wait,” Hiccup droned. 

“WHAT?” Squawked Tuffnut, face aghast as though Hiccup had just insulted his very being. “Hiccup, you did not just say that? Tell me it ain’t so H!” The teen flailed.

“Boar pit repairs are as important as everything else Hiccup! You don’t see us telling you that stable repairs can wait!” Ruffnut huffed indignantly. 

“That’s because they can’t, the dragons... Actually, you know what—No, I’m not even going to try. Ruffnut, Tuffnut. Finish the repairs on the lookout tower, everyone else you know what you’re doing,” Hiccup bemoaned, deciding it wasn’t worth the unintelligible argument that would be sure to follow if he fell into the trap of responding.

Jack was wondering what repairs a pit could really need, and from the looks, on the rest of the groups' faces, they were all equally as baffled, most notably Snotlout.

Seeing the twins go to argue Hiccup spoke again. “Right well that's all settled so, Jack you’re with—”

“Me,” Astrid cut in, her expression drawn in challenge. 

Hiccup hadn’t taken the risk and that was how he ended up in the midst of a dense patch of trees; helping the shieldmaiden to clear the worst of the burnt brush and branches. 

Jack had tried a handful of times to start a conversation, but each time had received only grunts or blunt responses. He’d given up after the last attempt when the look on the girl's face clearly implied she wasn’t above making him shut up if he didn’t choose to do so himself. 

It was early afternoon by the time they stopped for some water. The only sound between them being the sizzling and hissing of the bonfire—that burnt away in the middle of the clearing—and the soft rustle of leaves caught by the gentle breeze, that carried with it the scent of smoke and pine. They sat along the edge of the clearing, backs pressed to the cool bark of a large conifer, enjoying the few minutes of stillness between them. 

Jack was feeling the strain of his efforts and had developed the start of a headache somewhere along the way, he wasn't sure if it was from dehydration or simply due to exhaustion, but it appeared to be growing steadily worse as the day was progressing. 

The other riders hadn’t pushed him to do quite so much, whether it was due to his believed age, his injury or simply because they weren’t as driven as Astrid he wasn’t sure. Even Snotlout had gone easy on him, though Snotlout had also enjoyed showing off how much stronger he was than the mortal-spirit—Jack definitely hadn’t put on a show of weakness to get out of heavy lifting—currently, though he would prefer to be working with the boastful-brunet than the shieldmaiden, at least Snotlout was talkative.

“So,” Jack began tentatively, licking droplets of water from his lips and casting a quick glance over at Astrid who was returning his look with one that said she’d much rather he didn’t continue whatever train of thought he was about to voice. 

Jack was starting to get fidgety as the silence drew on though, the dull throbbing behind his eyes was making him agitated and he just wanted something to take his mind off the million and one thoughts that were allowed free rein in the silence. The woman, the letter, his mission, the moon, his death. So he chose to ignore Astrid's warning.

“Are there no adults around here?”

Jack hadn’t exactly gotten what was going on with the island of teenage Vikings. He had heard them mention parents and family but from what he had seen of the island, they weren’t anywhere close by. It was reminding him all too much of a book Jamie had read for his English class, about a group of boys governing themselves on an island and how disastrous that had turned out in the end. In fact, he was sure if the twins were the ones in charge it would likely end up something close to that. He was immensely glad now that he had been unconscious during their short-lived reign. 

“No, everyone else is back on Berk,” Astrid replied tersely. 

“Berk? Is that where you’re all from then? Why are you all here and not there?” Jack hoped he wasn't prying, but the questions spilled from his lips before he had a chance to change his mind. He trailed his fingers over the hook of his staff, smudging the soot that coated the gnarled wood from where he had been using it to shake loose dead branches and brush. 

“Yeah, Berk is the Island we grew up on. It’s where our parents are. It’s our home,” Astrid fell quiet after that and Jack briefly thought it was all she was willing to share. A ghost of a smile settled on her lips as she continued. “Hiccup is why we’re here. He can’t sit still on Berk, it's not in him. He wanted to explore, see what else is out here,”

Every word held a trace of the respect and compassion the girl held for her fellow rider. Jack could see the faintest blush dust her cheeks and wondered if the girl's feelings perhaps stretched further than just friendship and respect. 

“He can’t help himself when it comes to dragons. He’s made it his mission to discover them all,” Astrid breathed. 

Jack held back a small smile when a certain slogan popped into his head and he pictured Hiccup in a backward cap throwing balls at dragons. He wasn’t sure the dragons would appreciate it, but he enjoyed the mental image nonetheless. 

Jack had seen it in Hiccup, the boy's enthusiasm for dragons, his constant thirst for knowledge. Hiccup was someone that just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to learn. It had endeared Jack to the boy already, the constant questions, the awe, and excitement over grasping something new. 

The number of times Jack had been asked to read the same passage from his letter for him was testament enough. He could recite it now, without even looking at it. He was sure Hiccup could also recite it. He had learned the written words and could now pick them out with ease. Jack was sure if Hiccup had been alive during the age of Vikings in the mortal world, he would be a household name today. He was glad, however, that, that wasn't the case. 

“Yeah, he definitely loves dragons.” Jack mused, watching Astrid.

“Sometimes, I swear he loves dragons more than people.” Jack thought he saw a brief flicker of longing in the shieldmaiden's eyes. Perhaps there really was more to her feelings for Hiccup.

“Oh, I’m not so sure. I think to someone who spends so much time with him it may seem that way, but to an outsider like me, I can see how much he cares about you all. He’s proud that you all are his friends,” Jack gave Astrid a reassuring smile.

Over the years he’d had similar conversations with the Burgess kids. Each time one of them would lose themself to a new passion the others would grow anxious, fearing being forgotten or left behind. Jack had always reassured them, true friendship would endure. He only wished he also believed his own words, he knew their fear all too well. 

“That sounds like Hiccup,” Astrid smiled thinly, adoration shining in her eyes. It was good to see a look other than dissatisfaction on the girl's face, when she smiled she looked more youthful. 

“So, Hiccup has you all out here tracking down dragons then?” Jack surmised, tapping the end of his staff against the dirt, wishing to keep the conversation going. 

“Yeah, dragons and Dagur.” 

“Dagur? You’ve said that name before, who are they?” Jack questioned tentatively. 

Astrid studied him for a moment. Jack could feel the weight of her judgment building heavily on his shoulders, he couldn’t quite guess what she had determined through her scrutiny, but a breathless second later she began to speak.

“Dagur the Deranged is the chief of the Berserker tribe. He was imprisoned on Outcast Island after a war with our tribe. Recently though, he escaped and vowed revenge against Hiccup, Toothless, and all those who stood against him. He’s completely insane, mind you and he hates dragons.” 

Jack listened, nodding along as Astrid spoke. He caught himself seeking out Stormfly, who he found napping leisurely beside the bonfire. He couldn’t fathom how anyone could hate dragons, all the ones he had met so far were just like giant house pets. It was as scandalous to him as finding out someone hated cats or dogs. Anyone who could hate them was completely immoral in his books. 

“Oh, wow. I can see now why you don’t want him to find out where your island is, he sounds… Deranged,” Jack chuckled softly at Astrid’s exasperated sigh. 

“So, if he hates dragons I assume he doesn’t also ride them, like you? Surely that gives you an advantage, right?”

“Yeah, we have that advantage, so far it’s kept us out of too much danger, since Dagur travels by boat we’re able to outrun him or chase him down if needed. Though Hiccup does his best to keep us out of those kinds of situations.” Astrid’s fingers were braiding and unbraiding a small length of her hair, a habit Jack had noticed the girl had when she was deep in thought. Her fingers left dark streaks in the blond locks. 

“He’s very protective of you all,” Jack granted with a smile. 

“Of course. Hiccup’s the son of our chief, it's in his nature to think of his people.” Astrid regarded him with a searching look. “You didn’t know?”

Jack was momentarily taken aback by the revelation. Hiccup was the son of their chief. The way everyone treated Hiccup made a lot more sense now. Drawing out one long breath he slowly put his thoughts into words.

“I suppose I really shouldn’t be surprised by that, you all seemed to listen to him, to rely on his judgment. I guess I just assumed it was because you respected him. I didn’t know it was because he was your chief's son.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t think it, right? Hiccup runs from the responsibility every chance he gets.” Astrid huffed quietly.

Jack chuckled at the display of irritation. “Some people just don’t want the responsibility, Astrid. For someone like Hiccup- whose world revolves around exploration and new horizons, the thought of the same thing day in day out... It's like cutting off their air and expecting them to keep breathing. I can’t say I don’t understand. I tried to do the same thing once.” Jack offered with a shrug. 

Astrid looked taken aback, her eyes locked onto Jack with mystified interest. “You did?”

“Yeah,” Jack hummed, turning to look up at the girl. His fingers stilled where they had been tapping against his staff. “Not long ago, I used to spend my days doing whatever I wanted. So long as I was having fun, I could pretend nothing else mattered. Then something bad happened and a lot of people were in trouble. The ones who sent me here, I didn’t know them then... But they came to me, asking for help. They said I was _chosen_ to become one of them, by- well I suppose you could consider them our chief. They wanted me to take on all this responsibility; go against everything I was used to, go against my own nature. I almost didn’t accept it, I didn’t see why they wanted me. I mean, surely there was someone who’d do a better job. I didn’t understand at first, but I- well I worked it out and here I am, _again_ ,” 

“Wow, that's a lot for someone your age though.” Astrid appraised with mild awe.

Jack chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mirth, and shrugged, resting his head back against the tree trunk. “You think so?” 

Astrid gave him a searching look at his question and shook her head, letting out a heavy sigh in response. She stood then, grabbing her axe from where she had left it hanging hooked over a low branch. The movement caused the canopy above to rustle as she pulled it free. “Come on Jack, time to get back to work.” 

Jack watched Astrid as he stood, gaze cast up into the branches overhead. Small snaps that could easily have been mistaken as the crackling of wood from the bonfire caught the mortal-spirits attention. Seconds passed, as his focus settled on the canopy above the girl, and then a loud _crack_ signaled the descent of a burnt branch that was headed straight towards the blond beneath.

“ASTRID!” Jack cried hooking the shieldmaiden with his staff. He sharply tugged her back, catching her against his chest as the pair toppled into the clearing. The branch crashed down behind them, directly where the girl had stood moments prior. 

The noise startled the sleeping dragon whose loud squawk along with their rapid breathing was the only sound to break the silence that ensued. All eyes were trained on the now splintered log. 

Stormfly hurried to her rider's side, checking Astrid over for even the slightest sign of injury. Nose pressed against the still stunned shieldmaidens midsection. It was brief, with a few good sniffs and a piercing stare to search out any sign of blood, the dragon deemed her safe. She moved on to check Jack after. 

With his heart rate back under control, Jack let out a shaky breath. He petted the dragon affectionately as he turned to check on Astrid himself. As of yet she had remained silent and continued to stare at the log. He assumed it was shock, but studying the girl Jack noticed that Astrid’s expression didn’t appear shaken, instead, her pale complexion seemed aggrieved.

“Well, that was close,” Jack wheezed out a nervous laugh, trying to cut the tension that hung in the air like a cloud of smog, choking the breath from them.

Without a word in return, the girl stood and marched towards the branch. Jack wasn’t sure at first what she was about to do until he saw the flash of iron as her axe was brought down on the branch in one swift chop. 

Swallowing thickly, Jack glanced between the dragon to his side and the blond who was now dragging the wood towards the flames. 

A minute passed, in which the boy and dragon watched on. Neither wanted to disturb the girl who seemed stuck inside her own mind. Whether it was due to the branch that had offended her—by daring to fall in her direction—or simply frustrated by herself for her own—almost costly—slow reaction. 

“The area won't clean itself,” Astrid muttered, the battle in her mind finally won. She stomped off to rid herself of the remaining agitation.

Jack and Stormfly shared a quiet look. “I’m thinking it’s best to do as she says,” Jack whispered to the dragon, who cocked her head in reply and with a squawk ran off to join her rider. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Chuckling to himself Jack returned to his work. His mind playing over the events and how bad it could have been, had he not been fast enough to help Astrid. Would the others have blamed him for it? What would have happened to him if they had? 

He was relieved that he had reacted so quickly, both because he had stopped Astrid from coming to any harm, and also because it meant that not everything was taken from him alongside his powers. He could still help people like this. 

The silence and absence of a thank you hadn’t surprised him. Astrid didn’t strike him as the type to be particularly thankful for being rescued. Not because she wasn’t grateful but because being rescued meant she hadn’t been able to do it herself, and that meant that she needed help. Admitting that would mean admitting her own faults, Jack couldn’t see that being something Astrid would enjoy doing.

Jack didn’t mind though, he hadn’t done it for the thanks, he’d done it because it was the right thing to do because he was a Guardian, powers or not. 

The rest of the afternoon faded away, only with much more cursing on Astrid's part. Jack found the girl's language to be quite creative and had started to mentally score the colorful phrasing as a way to pass the time.

_Son of a half-troll._ 8 points, preferable to certain other curses Jack had heard Jamie come out within recent years.

_Dragon dung._ 6 points, has some spark but lacks impact.

_Useful as Odin's right eye._ His favorite so far, 9 points. Witty packs a punch without being distasteful. 

The evening drew in as the pair continued in silence. Work had slowed to the occasional shakes of low lying bushes and the fire spluttered, a dim glow in the midst of the darkened clearing. The night was pressing in around them. 

It was disconcerting to Jack, not a single moonbeam could penetrate the canopy here, and with the bonfire all but burnt out, he was starting to get jumpy. Every distant noise became a Nightmare, every brush in the dark a Fearlings grasping claws. There was no way it could be, he assured himself, but it didn’t stop the shadows from playing tricks on him. 

Only once the pair could no longer see their hands in front of their faces did Astrid call it a day, and the trio started their trek back towards the base. Jack was relieved to be heading out of the trees and back towards the camp, where it was light. 

“You know, when we get back, you should let me rebandage that ankle of yours,” Astrid offered quietly. 

Jack quirked a brow, he was startled at first, having prepared himself for another silent journey. He couldn’t see the girl well in the gloom but he could tell by the unsure quiver to her voice that her offer had been out of her comfort zone. He wondered if it was the offer itself that she wasn’t sure of or the act of starting a conversation that she was struggling with. 

“Sure, if you don’t mind,” Jack glanced down towards his feet, he knew he couldn’t see his ankle in this light, but it didn’t stop him from trying. The bandages had slipped during the day and he could feel the loose fabric shifting as he walked. He’d done a pretty shoddy job of wrapping it himself that morning. Bandaging wasn’t a skill he possessed after years of accelerated healing, and he didn’t want to bother the riders with something if he could do it himself, skill or not.

“Of course, just don’t expect it every day. You need to learn to do a better job yourself,” 

Jack chuckled at the girl's gruff response. It struck him then that this was how Astrid intended to thank him. Her thanks, all hidden in one small discreet act of kindness. 

“Yes Ma’am,” 

Astrid hummed and the conversation seemed to taper off. They continued on in silence for a short time, each step tentative and hands searching in the darkness before breaking through into the less densely packed area of forest. The moonlight that filtered through the canopy gave them enough light to finally be able to make each other—and the area around them—out.

Jack was wracking his brain for a good conversation starter—one that wasn’t bland but also wasn’t too personal—when a rustling of leaves close by had the teens stopping in their tracks. 

Astrid was reaching for her axe, just as a small white blur shot through the canopy circled the mortal-spirit’s head, and landed heavily on his shoulder. 

“Smidvarg!” Jack cried cheerfully, looking up at the dragon. Over the past few days, Jack had noticed the small dragon sticking close to him. He couldn't figure out why the dragon was following him. At first, he had assumed either Hiccup or Astrid had asked the beast to watch him, but after questioning Hiccup had found that he seemed just as baffled by Smidvarg’s behavior. Even if he wasn't sure why the dragon chose to follow him, he found himself enjoying the company all the same. 

“You know, he’s supposed to be on watch.” Astrid sighed. The group had learned long ago that a dragon would always do what a dragon wanted to do, and there was very little you could do to stop them. Smidvarg was no different. 

“I know, you hear that Smidvarg? You’re supposed to be on watch.” Jack chirped, giving the dragon a stern look but laughing all the while. Smidvarg crooned in reply and settled close enough that Jack was able to hear the rumbled purr that sounded deep within the dragon's chest. 

“He’s gotten pretty attached to you.” Astrid mused as they picked their way through a patch of brambles. 

“You think?” Jack considered, glancing at Smidvarg as if expecting the dragon to confess his motives. “Maybe because we’re both oddballs,” He threw Astrid a playful smile, and tugged at his white locks, tilting his head towards the small dragon. 

“I don’t think it’s because of your hair, Jack,” Astrid laughed. “I don’t know what it is, but those Night Terrors re-eeeally like you.” 

Jack’s airy chuckle caught on the crisp night breeze, his hand stroking the smooth scales of the dragon on his shoulder. He liked the Night Terrors too. They reminded him of the tooth fairies, and he was missing Baby Tooth right now. The little fairy found him most days, he spent more time with her than the other Guardians. He wondered what she was up to, if she was missing him just as much. She was likely pretty mad that he hadn’t said goodbye to her, and those tooth fairies could hold a grudge—even to this day the mere mention of Pitch riled up the little tooth fairies so much, that a band on his name had been put in place at the Tooth Palace—he’d have to deal with that when he got back. If he managed to get back.

“Well that's good because I really like them too, and we have a little something planned for a certain pair of twins, right Smidvarg?” Jack grinned deviously, glancing over at Astrid. He had come up with a plan after finding out about the Night Terrors. It was nothing too fancy, just a little payback for their previous introduction. 

“Oh, now this I’ve got to see.” The wide grin that broke out on Astrid’s face was the first true smile Jack had seen from the girl. It didn’t surprise him that other people's pain brought her such joy, and he couldn’t find it in himself to worry. If it got Astrid to loosen up a little and break out of her usual serious demeanor, that was all that mattered. 

“All in due time, a good prank is one that fits seamlessly into the situation in which it takes place.” Jack wagged his finger at the girl haughtily. He bit down on his lip in an attempt to keep a straight face, the playful gleam in his eyes giving away his amusement. 

“Ah of course, how foolish of me. How could I not have known that?” Astrid amended with a mock solemn nod. 

“Hey, no worries. With my top quality tutelage, you could quickly come to understand the ins and outs of all things prank. You’d be pranking with the best of us in no time!” 

“It would be good to get my own back on the twins from time to time. I might just take you up on that offer, Jack.” Astrid hummed, tapping at her chin in thought. 

Jack spun on his heels as they broke through the last of the trees that lined the edge of the base and bowed deeply, unseating Smidvarg from his perch. The dragon's claws promptly caught in the fabric of his borrowed green tunic, loud indignant squawk starling nesting birds in nearby trees. 

A wide grin split his cheeks, it was easy to forget the dull ache in his head when he was able to joke freely. “Well then, I am at your service, ma’am.” 

The pair dissolved into a bout of laughter, each glance at one another setting them off into another fit of breathless giggles. Jack dabbed at his eyes, drying the tears that clung to his lashes as he tried to catch his breath through fresh bubbles of humor. A low whistling built-in volume behind Jack and as the boy turned to find the source of the noise was greeted by two acid green eyes only inches from his face.

“Toothless?” Jack blinked. 

“There you two are! We were just coming to find you.” Hiccup announced. His astonishment at the sight of the pair acting so cordially washed across his face in a wave of—long-awaited—relief. 

“Sorry Hiccup, got a bit carried away with clearing, but we finished what needed doing,” Astrid replied. “Jack was… A big help.” She finished with a small smile in the direction of the mortal-spirit. 

Jack grinned in response and nodded towards Hiccup. “That’s me, Mister Helpful.” 

“Clearly,” Hiccup snorted, returning Jack's smile with his own crooked one. “There’s food on the go in the Club House, but you’ll want to be quick before it’s all gone.” Hiccup held out his hand, the silent offer of a lift back laid out between them. 

“I’ll take Jack.” Astrid cut in, pulling the boy over to Stormfly as she mounted the dragon. Smidvarg took off then, disappearing into the star-speckled sky towards the lookout towers and his fellow Terrors. 

“Alright then, I’ll go and save you something to eat.” Hiccup replied, throwing a confused glance at Jack, who simply shrugged in response and watched as Hiccup and Toothless took off in the direction of the Club House. 

“Well, get on then,” 

Deciding not to second guess the girl's motives Jack slipped into place behind her. One hand resting on her shoulder—doing his best to avoid the axe strapped to her back—as he tried to find the least bothersome position that allowed him to keep hold of his staff. 

He settled on holding it by his thigh, the staff running horizontally along the length of Stormfly, fingers hooked around it and under the edge of the saddle to keep balance. It bumped against his calf and Astrid's a little but was by far the least uncomfortable of his options. 

“Look, Jack…” Astrid faltered, her mouth opened and closed as she struggled to pull together her thoughts. “Let’s... Not tell Hiccup- Today- There’s- We shouldn’t worry him over something like that… You know?” She breathed, keeping her eyes trained ahead as they followed Hiccup’s lead back, though the pair were now nowhere in sight. 

He wasn’t sure Astrid was being entirely truthful about her reason for wanting to keep the event a secret. Sure it was reasonable to believe that she didn’t want to worry him. Hiccup seemed the type to blame himself for incidents completely out of his control, but it was more believable that at least part of it was down to her own embarrassment. Astrid was no damsel in distress, that much was obvious. 

Jack wasn’t about to argue with her over it. Sure he wasn’t comfortable with lying—though, was it really lying if you didn’t tell someone full stop. It's not like he's making something up, it was just subject avoidance, right? He could do that until Astrid was happy to bring it up herself—but he was reveling in the small amount of trust the girl had granted him. There was no way he was going to break it. Not when he knew if he lost it, it would be ten times as hard to win it back if he even got a second chance. 

“Whatever you want, Astrid,” He smiled, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze as they landed. He slipped from the back of the dragon with ease.

Astrid gave him a half-hearted smile and jumped down beside him. “Let’s eat, I'm starving. After I’ll re-bandage that ankle of yours. You did a really yak crap job of it.” 

“Ah, a good 7, mild but with feeling, fitting too,” Jack hummed to himself. 

Astrid didn’t reply, Jack wondered what had caused the girl to go silent on him now. When he turned he caught sight of the girl's pursed lips and puzzled look and suddenly remembered she hadn’t been a conscious part of his earlier entertainment, mentally code-named ‘Curse Factor’. “I mean, sounds good. Let's do that.” 

Jack let out a relieved breath when Astrid merely shook her head and headed into the building with a shrug. 

They settled in the empty spots around the table. Hiccup placed bowls of what looked to be some kind of fish stew in front of them. The room was abuzz with lively chatter, the dragons were huddled around baskets along the edge of the room, and a soft crunching of grinding rocks sounded from somewhere off behind Fishlegs. 

Feeling eyes on him Jack turned to find Hiccup watching him, their eyes met briefly and Hiccup turned away quickly. His cheeks seemed flushed but the furnace wasn’t throwing out enough heat to be the cause. It was a confusing reaction to the mortal-spirit, but he had too much on his mind to worry over the cause. 

“So, what was all that with Astrid? I was surprised she offered to give you a lift after spending the day with you-AH! Not that I mean spending the day with you would be bad or anything.” Hiccup rushed, hands flailing as he spoke.

Jack quirked his head to the side feeling a smile tug at the corner of his lips as he watched Hiccup with obvious amusement. He shrugged, tapping his spoon against the edge of his bowl. 

“She just wanted to thank me for my hard work,” Jack replied, pursing his lips in an attempt to hold his straight face, noting Hiccup’s skeptical look. “What? It’s true you can ask her, I _was_ Mister Helpful after all.” Jack hummed innocently, crossing his heart and fluttering his lashes at the rider. The display only earned him a loud snort in response. 

“Sureeeee,” Hiccup drawled, “Well Mister Helpful, let's see some of that tomorrow, from what I recall of your _help_ you just sat there and fed the Night Terrors fish until they fell asleep.” 

“Hey! They looked hungry! It’s not my fault! You should keep your help well-fed, otherwise, they might revolt!” Jack proclaimed loudly, flourishing his spoon at Hiccup. 

“Uh-huh, well then you better eat up, I wouldn't want you to revolt on me.” Hiccup mused in response, pushing the boy's bowl closer to him. 

Jack gave Hiccup a half-hearted scowl and started to eat the stew. It was definitely fish, along with something else he couldn’t place, and it was salty. Salt seemed to be the defining seasoning of all meals served on the island. It wasn’t bad per-say just a little much for his underused taste buds. 

He watched the rest of the group as he ate. The twins were bickering loudly—over something that Jack couldn’t even begin to fathom but seemed to relate to Tuffnut's chicken, Chicken—which resulted in punches being thrown and an all too eager Snotlout was egging them on. Safely out of reach of any possible injury to himself. 

Fishlegs was babbling away to Astrid between mouthfuls of stew. Jack could already tell it was either about dragons or one very specific dragon, Meatlug. Fishlegs was never short of praise for Meatlug. Jack was sure he’d caught Fishlegs telling Meatlug how good she was at breathing only that morning, and it was frightening to him just how quickly he was becoming desensitized to just how odd the behavior actually was. 

Hiccup had a far off look in his eyes, his dinner sat untouched in front of him. Jack couldn’t discern the cause. Perhaps, he was thinking over one of his inventions that Jack had seen lying around; or the remaining repairs, possibly something to do with the deranged person Astrid had told him about, or maybe Hiccup was just daydreaming. It was hard to tell. Jack didn’t want to ask, he knew better than to pry too far into other people's thoughts. 

It was moments like this spent with the group that Jack had found himself looking forward to. After the first day, the suspicious looks had started to ease, sure that hadn’t automatically made him a welcomed guest at their dinner table. He hadn’t been included in a lot of the conversations, not because they were intentionally freezing him out, but because no one knew what they could or couldn’t ask. He was still an outsider to them—Astrid hadn’t let anyone forget that—but he wasn’t left completely out of the loop either.

It was nice, spending time with others, no matter how involved he was. The Guardians were always too busy to meet up like this, to just gather and appreciate each other’s time. They were considered a team, a close-knit group of protectors, but with all that being said the Guardians were nothing like the group before him. 

Did he even know all that much about his friends? Did they really know him? Did they really care about him the way the riders cared about each other? He couldn’t be sure, but for the time being, he was just happy to enjoy the small space he had found amongst the group before him. 

He was hoping that with Astrid no longer completely detesting his existence, the remaining distrust would ease and that maybe, just maybe, he’d be allowed to have five minutes to himself. He hadn’t had a second alone since he first met Hiccup and the drastic change—to someone who spent the vast majority of his time by himself—was a little hard to process. 

Hiccup had been struggling with the situation worse than he was. Astrid’s suspicion and constant reminders of caution had the rider second-guessing everything he could and couldn’t tell him. Jack had caught the boy biting his tongue each time he was about to let slip something he ultimately deemed Astrid disapproved. Namely, every other thing he was about to say. 

It wasn’t just Hiccup, of course, there had been a few occasions where Jack wasn’t sure about answering questions directed at him, and so the pair had ended up fumbling their way through conversations like some uncomfortably stiff dance, one to make school dance chaperones proud. 

“If you’re done, Jack, I’ll bandage your ankle,” Astrid said, nudging Jack gently, stirring the mortal-spirit from his thoughts. He hadn’t even noticed Astrid get up, or that Hiccup had started eating. Just how long had he been sitting there, staring into space. 

“Ah yeah,” Jack hummed, sticking one last spoonful of stew into his mouth. He shivered as he swallowed, slimy cold fish mush slipping down his throat. It was not as edible cold. He swiveled in his chair and followed the girl across the room. Astrid was carrying a bowl of steaming water—another thing Jack hadn’t been aware of—and was quickly directed to a seat beside a small chest. Astrid deposited the bowl by his feet and began rummaging through the chest, pulling out bandages as she went. 

Hiccup had joined them, brow quirking as he watched the pair. “Jack, if you needed help, you could have asked.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” Jack replied casually, watching as Astrid removed the soot coated bandage from around his ankle. It pooled on the floor and put Jack in mind of a snake shedding its skin. The bare skin on either side of the bandage was just as thickly coated in grime, had Jack’s ankle not been purpled with bruising the contrast between the pitch-black smudges and his pale flesh would surely have been humorously juxtaposed.

“Jack you need to take better care of this or you’ll get an infection,” Astrid chastised, “Hiccup can you get the honey?” She began to wipe over the wound with a hot clean rag. It caused Jack to hiss in pain and again he was reminded of the slithering reptiles, so different from the dragons present. 

Jack watched Hiccup disappear out the door, Toothless hot on his tail, there was a sudden whooshing that followed the pair's departure, it carried into the room on an icy gust of wind that caused goosebumps to rise along Jacks forearms. Astrid who took the brunt of the blast didn’t even flinch. 

A few more dabs and hisses later and another frozen blast greeted them, tousling his already unkempt hair. Hiccup and Toothless came hurrying back into the room container in hand.

It was promptly received by Astrid who began slathering its contents over Jack’s ankle. His nose wrinkled at the feel of the cold sticky substance, dripping down his skin in syrupy streams of gold. Once done Astrid proceeded to wrap his ankle in fresh bandages, Jack took his time to watch her work; eyes locked on her hands, following the movements in an attempt to memorize the act. 

He didn’t want to constantly ask for help, even if Hiccup had told him he could. It was a matter of independence, he refused to call it pride. He was a Guardian, he could bandage his own ankle. 

“Thanks, Astrid, that feels better already.” Jack offered her a smile. It was true, his ankle hadn’t been hurting so badly that day. It twinged every now and again but he was able to walk on it, he just couldn’t yet perform his usual feats of acrobatics. 

“No problem, Jack.” Astrid passed the container back to Hiccup, who vanished yet again in a beat of black wings. Jack assumed they hid the honey from a certain pair of menacing blonds.

“Just don’t assume that this means I like you all of a sudden, because I don’t.” Astrid stood with a huff. She returned to the table, leaving him alone by the doorway. 

Jack smiled at Astrid’s dismissal. He could tell it was mostly an empty gesture on her part, an attempt to keep him at arm's length. If only to remind herself that he was the unknown and needed to be treated with caution. He knew of course she wasn’t going to make it that easy for him, but he didn’t mind. It meant he wouldn’t forget either, which was helpful because his resolve had been slipping. 

He stood as Hiccup arrived back. Toothless barrelled into the room behind him nosing at Jack in greeting before bounding off to scope out each basket, in turn, hunting for any leftovers.

“I feel like I’ve missed something, something important.” Hiccup hummed, squinting at Jack with playful suspicion as they headed back towards the table.

“Well now if you had, I’m afraid I couldn’t tell you anything,” Jack teased, tilting his head in the direction of the group. “Time to jump back into the rabble?”

Hiccup's gaze drifted to the group, his hesitance palpable at the sight of the twins still throwing fists, only now with added fish stew. “I guess so,” Hiccup bemoaned. 

Jack was about to reply when something flew past his face, followed by the sound of a wet smack. Jack watched the cold mush collide with Hiccup's cheek. 

“Uh… Pfft.” Jack wheezed, doubling over into a fit of giggles.

A deadpan expression replaced Hiccup’s once hesitant one. 

“Uh oh, you hit Hiccup!” Ruffnut cried, Jack could only assume she was talking to her brother. 

Hiccup stared at Jack for a second before he scoffed. “Oh, you think that’s funny, huh?” Hiccup smirked evilly, wiping the remnants off his face before flicking them at the snowy-haired boy. 

Jack let out a startled yelp as he felt fish splatter across his own cheek. Hiccup’s loud chuckle reverberated around the room, and then there was chaos. 

“FOOD FIGHT! YOU’RE HIT YOU LOSE, LAST MAN STANDING IS THE WINNER!” The twins cried in unison as everyone ducked for cover, food flying in all directions. 

Jack crouched behind a chair, sending Hiccup a wicked grin as he used his staff to hook a bowl off of the tabletop, sending a handful of fish stew in the direction of the auburn-haired rider as food soared overhead. 

Groups soon started to form, Ruffnut and Tuffnut had joined forces and were pelting food with abandon. Snotlout had hidden under the table and was gathering up as much ammunition as he could. Astrid and Fishlegs were hidden behind the opposite side of the furnace and looked to be discussing strategy. 

Hiccup surveyed the battleground, dodging stray throws. Hiccup dived in Jack’s direction rolling to a stop beside the snowy-haired boy, catching hold of Jack's wrist to quickly still the shot Jack had prepared for him, pinning his other hand to the floor before he could move to ready another. 

“Truce!” Hiccup spoke quietly. “If you want to win this we have to do it together, there’s no way to beat Astrid and Fishlegs otherwise. You need me!” 

Jack took a sharp breath, he only half heard what Hiccup was saying. Far too distracted by how close the rider's face was to his own. He could feel Hiccup’s breath ghosting across his cheek, and the warmth of the boy's hands against his chilled skin sent small shocks skittering through his nerves. 

It both alarmed and confused him, why was he feeling this way? What even was it he was feeling? He’d ended up in similar positions with Jamie and the others countless times during snowball fights, but never had it caused his heart to beat so rapidly. He was definitely blushing. This wasn’t okay, but now wasn’t the time to think about it. 

“Hm, a truce you say? Do I have your word of honor that there will be no double-crossing?” Jack mused, a twinkle in his eyes as he tried to calm his racing heart. 

“Of course, a Haddock never goes back on his word.” The rider sang, raising a hand to his heart in a mock display of honesty that had Jack cracking up. 

“Well then young Master Haddock, you have yourself a deal!” Jack smirked, wiggling his wrist free of the rider’s grip. He grabbed Hiccup's hand with his own stew-covered one and shook it vigorously, earning himself a groaned laugh from the other teen. 

“Alright, first we need to take out Snotlout, steal his cache and his cover. Once we’ve got that then we take out the twins. Only with them down do we have a chance to take out Astrid and Fishlegs!” Hiccup whispered quickly, peering out from their hiding place every now and again to keep an eye on the unfolding events. 

As of yet, no one had been hit, everyone had dug it and didn’t look to be moving. 

“You’ve got it, Captain!” Jack saluted with a wink. He glanced around the chair and over to Snotlout who was still scrabbling to hoard as much food in his hiding spot as possible. Jack was wondering if his plan was to outlast everyone. It was a good plan, but it also made him a target, and games like this were Jack’s forte. Food fights, snowball fights, what was the difference? It was game on. 

Jack turned back to Hiccup who was quietly summing up the best strategy. Spotting a pair of shields leaned against the wall to Hiccup’s right Jack's eyes lit up. “I have a plan,” 

Hiccup seemed hesitant at first but nodded all the same. “Well then, let's hear it,” 

Jack leaned in whispering conspiratorially into the Viking teen's ear, outlining the plan. Hiccup nodded along approvingly as he spoke, sharing a few ideas of his own as they went. 

“After that, I’ll leave the rest up to you.” Jack nodded once he was finished, Hiccup's own grin was matching that of the mortal-spirits. 

“Great, I guess then there’s nothing left to do now but to see it through.” The auburn-haired rider clasped Jack’s forearm and nodded appraisingly. 

“See you on the other side Cap',” Jack grabbed a shield and turned to Hiccup giving the male one last look. Hiccup sent Jack a signal and the countdown began. 

“NOW,” Hiccup cried. 

Jack set the shield rolling, and dived into a roll of his own behind it, grabbing hold of it when he was far enough away. He kept low in the shield's shadow. Hiccup had darted in the opposite direction and was currently taking cover behind a chair, the shield held over his head, fending off an onslaught courtesy of the twins. 

Jack could see the gears turning in Astrids and Fishlegs minds as their attention was divided between them, but he wasn’t about to give them enough time to work out their goal. He set his eyes on Snotlout who was hunched around his hoard and seemed about ready to growl at anyone who came near. Jack darted behind a pillar dodging low throws as the twins tried to take him out at the ankles. 

_‘A dirty tactic against someone with an injury’_ he thought. He cast another glance at Hiccup who had maneuvered himself closer to the table pushing himself forwards whilst keeping cover behind the chair and shield. 

Jack took another breath and in a second set the shield rolling again. As the twins and Astrid turned their attention to the shield he darted around the other side of the pillar, diving over to the table. He hooked a bowl off the surface as he went, and caught it in his free hand. His grin widened at the sight of the brunet riders slack-jawed horror. Snotlout didn’t even stand a chance as the bowl of cold stew was promptly dumped over his head. 

Jack ducked under the table, grabbing the bowl off Snotlout's head, who was now cursing and crying out expletives due to his early eviction from the game. Jack scooped up as much as he could into the bowl and used his staff to putt it in the direction of his auburn-haired teammate who caught it with ease. 

Whilst the twins and their blond rivals were busy trying to figure out Jack's next move, Hiccup burst out of his hiding place. Shield balanced on his head and fists full of mush, which was sent hurtling towards the surprised troublemakers. 

Duplicate splats were followed by a unionized groan as the twins' faces were smothered in the slimy mush. 

Hiccup had grabbed the shield once more and ducked under the table with Jack, just missing a well-aimed throw from Astrid. Sharing a steadying glance they both took a handful of the stew, the twins had moved away from the table and had settled bedside Snotlout. Jack found their retreat to be much more graceful than that of the brunet. He could hear them loudly commentating on the remaining battle from the sidelines where they had a better view of the situation at hand. 

“A-aaaaand it’s crunch time folks, only two groups remaining! Will Team Storm-Lug or Team- Uh… Bright... Fury come out on top?” Tuffnut sang, squinting in thought as he strung together team names. 

“Team Storm-Lug appears anxious! It looks like they’re relying heavily on probability, but will Bright-Fury’s captain Hiccup pull out the old faithful?” Ruffnut chimed in. 

“Team Bright-Fury are preparing to move, but it appears team Storm-Lug isn’t yet ready! Will they get it together in time?”

Jack could hear Astrid and Fishlegs hurried chatter—it was mostly lost under the booming commentary—Tuffnut and Ruffnut were right, they were trying to guess where Jack and Hiccup would appear from next. Fishlegs was theorizing all possible attacks as Astrid was hurrying him to decide their next move. 

Jack nodded as Hiccup signaled for them to make their move, the pair darted in separate directions. Hiccup vaulted over the surface as Jack sprang around the edge, flashing Astrid a wicked grin when she caught sight of him behind Fishlegs.

Fishlegs squeal cut through the room louder than the bellowed calls of the twins' commentary as Hiccup landed in a crouch behind Astrid. 

The blond duo let loose a frenzied flurry of throws, Fishlegs attacks flying wide completely missing his target, whilst Jack promptly dodges the attacks aimed at his head. In a second hands were shoved into the blond's faces, coating them in fish gloop. 

Astrid's screech echoed throughout the Club House but was shortly drowned out by Jack’s and Hiccup’s cheers of victory. 

“TEAM BRIGHT-FURY WINS! THAT WAS AMAZING!” Tuffnut cried, jumping to his feet. “I don’t even feel cheated. A MASTERPIECE! Great Odin, true beauty has blessed mine eyes!”

“True craftsmen,” Ruffnut added, dabbing at her eyes as if to wipe away a tear. “One could simply not even hope to beat such a display of brilliance!”

“Ah- They were just lucky,” Snotlout huffed. “If I had been ready, then none of you would have beaten me!” 

“That was very—” Fishlegs started slowly.

“Hiccup.” Astrid finished, punctuating her statement with a nod. 

“Actually, not this time,” Hiccup chuckled, his smile directed at the snowy-haired teen. “It was Jack’s idea, mostly. I might have tweaked a few things here or there.” He shrugged.

“Colour me impressed. I have to say, the misdirect with the shield, nice touch.” Astrid hummed, gracing Jack with a look of approval. 

Jack now stood grinning happily, soaking up the praise, he wasn’t used to it. The guardians rarely praised him for his ideas, they rarely used his ideas. He supposed it was because they’d been doing the whole Guardian business for so long they had already fallen into a rhythm of what worked for them, and Jack just hadn’t fit into the equation. 

“Thanks, Hiccup said we needed the element of surprise. Seems he was right.” 

“The element of surprise is a Hiccup _special_.” Tuffnut chimed in, having come to stand beside Jack, his hand resting on the shorter boy's shoulder. 

“Ah yes, the element of surprise, key to every battle,” Ruffnut nodded coming to stand on Jack's other side, successfully sandwiching the boy between them.

“Is that so,” Jack replied with a hum. 

“Are we not going to talk about how fast Jack was? Like Speed Stinger fast!” Fishlegs breathed.

“Yeah, you were very light on your feet,” Astrid nodded trying to wipe away any remnants of food from her face. 

“Wait, are you saying Jack’s part Speed Stinger?” Tuffnut jumped away, eyeing Jack warily.

Jack leaned back as Ruffnut leaned into him, peering at him intensely through one eye. “He doesn’t look like he’s part Speed Stinger,” Ruffnut said. 

“I think Hiccup was just as quick.” Jack shrugged, having no clue what the twins were on about and so decided to ignore them. Everyone else seemed to do the same. 

“No way, Hiccup was nowhere near as quick!” Fishlegs contested.

“Well, I’m not so sure about that.” Jack chuckled.

Around the room, the dragons were tidying up any remains of the mess they could get their claws on. Toothless had broken away from the others and made his way over to the group, sniffing at the two victors with hungry enthusiasm.

“Hey, Toothless,” Jack said, feeling the dragon nuzzle at his hands, a breathless laugh escaped him as Toothless began to lick away the residue left clinging to them. “Oh- Hey that tickles,” he squeaked, trying to evade the dragon's persistent tongue. 

Jack sighed in relief when Toothless moved on to Hiccup, content with his thorough cleaning of the boy's hands. 

“Hey, bud. I know, how dare we play with fish instead of eating it?” Hiccup mused, offering up his hands without protest. Hiccup knew Toothless too well to try and avoid the stubborn dragon. If Toothless was set on something, well then, he wasn’t about to get out of it. 

Toothless grumbled, proceeding with his cleaning of Hiccup’s hands, casting an accusatory glare at his rider. That was when Toothless’s eyes latched onto something on the boy's face. 

“Oh- Hey Toothless- Toothless don’t you dare. Don’t- No! Toothless!” Hiccup warned, taking a cautious step back. He eyed the dragon warily, groaning when the winged menace pounced, lapping at Hiccup’s face with a cheerful croon. 

Jack broke into bubbles of laughter as he watched, only to be tackled by the creature seconds later when Toothless set his sights on him. 

“Ah, Toothless!” Jack whined the sound of Hiccup’s laughter was shortly joined by the rest of the group. He met Hiccup’s gaze with a smile, his own soft chuckles accompanied by Toothless’s warbled ones. He supposed he deserved that. 

————

A few hours later Jack was back to laying on his mound of furs. He was freshly bathed, dressed in one of Hiccup’s far too large red tunics, his smaller borrowed set hung drying by the hearth. He was mulling over the day's events. 

“Today was fun,” Jack mused, mostly to himself. It felt good to express how he was feeling vocally. Talking to himself was normal, he’d done it for a long time before he’d learned how to speak to the wind, though the wind wasn’t always the most conversational.

“Yeah, I think everyone enjoyed it. We all needed to let loose a bit after all of the work we’ve done this week,” Hiccup said—leaning back against a sleeping Toothless—from his spot beside the hearth. Over the past few evenings, Jack and Hiccup had found themselves gravitating together by the fire. Mostly they’d talk over the day's events to avoid unanswerable questions, and sometimes they just enjoyed the companionable silence for as long as one of them was awake. 

Hiccup would sit and draw in his sketchbook whilst Jack would puzzle through his thoughts, occasionally asking Hiccup’s opinion on something or another. Tonight was one such night. Hiccup was scratching away at a new page, and Jack was staring off into the darkness above them. 

Smidvarg had found his way into the hut shortly after they had arrived back that evening and hadn’t left Jack's side since. He had curled up on the snowy-haired boy's chest, and any attempt to move him so far had been futile. Though Jack wasn’t too fussed, the warmth of the dragon was soothing the pain that had started to flare in his chest. 

“Astrid said that Smidvarg has gotten pretty fond of me, I wonder why?” 

“Who can really tell when it comes to dragons. Maybe it’s because you both have an unusual coloring though.” Hiccup pondered teasingly. 

Jack laughed in response “I said the same thing, but Astrid disagreed.” Jack scratched under Smidvarg’s chin, earning a small croon for his troubles. 

“I couldn’t say for sure, all the dragons seem to accept you though, it's kind of strange actually. They usually take a lot longer to warm up to strangers.”

“Yeah, it would be nice if everyone could like me, not just the dragons.” Jack smiled, it was a soft thing, barely-there but Hiccup had caught it and returned it fondly.

“After tonight’s performance, you definitely earned their respect. And I wouldn’t worry too much. Take Snotlout for example, he tends to purposely irritate the people he likes the most.” Hiccup stopped drawing in his notebook and set it to the side. He focused his full attention on Jack. 

“I can’t take all the credit you know, the plan was just as much yours. Not to mention it wouldn’t have worked without you. I mean using the chair and shield that way? _Genius_!” Jack said eagerly. “Though it wouldn’t have been quite so successful if everyone was more spontaneous, you know? I noticed early on that they like to dig in, hold their ground. That can work, sure, but only if you have the upper hand. They didn’t. If they had moved around more, they’d have been a tougher fight.” 

He blinked slowly, catching himself, he flinched as he peeked over at Hiccup. He hadn’t intended to speak the last part aloud, his mouth had taken control when his thoughts took over and by the time he caught himself, it was too late. He gave Hiccup a lopsided smile, hoping the boy wasn’t upset by his words. He wasn’t trying to be dismissive of the other riders' abilities. 

“We’re Vikings, stubbornness is in our blood.” Hiccup replied unbothered. He flashed Jack one of his crooked smiles, before turning once more, to watch the flames in the hearth. The warmth of the room was lulling them back into a comfortable silence. 

Jack was twirling a lock of his damp hair around his finger, causing the drying strands to remain in a soft ringlet when he let his hand fall away. The quiet let loose his thoughts once more.

“Hiccup, have you ever had a dream that seems more like a memory, with people you’re sure you know. Only you can’t place where you know them from?” Jack mumbled, afraid to speak too loud in case he broke the pleasant bubble that had encased them.

“I don’t know if they count but sometimes, I suppose. The trouble with living on small islands, you see a lot of traders come and go. I get a lot of dreams where I recognize the people but it's not until I see the trader again, that I realize where I know them from.” Hiccup replied with a shrug, turning to look back at the boy.

“I suppose that makes sense.” Jack wondered if that was the same for him. If the woman in his dream was just one of many faces amongst a crowd he’d seen some time in his life. Perhaps they weren’t even from his mortal days. Was he just exaggerating their importance because of a nightmare? He couldn’t get past the unsettled feeling that developed in the pit of his stomach every time he thought about her though. It was starting to become unbearable, every quiet moment her faceless figure would surface in his mind. The memory not quite there but not quite gone either. He didn’t need this, he didn’t want this. He had far bigger things to worry about, he wanted this to stop. 

“Why, are you having dreams like that Jack?” Hiccup was staring at him, worry gleaming in his forest-green eyes. Had Jack looked that upset?

He considered the question, he had been pretty reserved with what he shared about himself up to that point, but he didn’t see the harm in sharing this. He’d been open with Astrid earlier that day, surely Hiccup deserved the same.

“Yeah, the other night, my first night here actually. I had this dream… I guess it was more like a nightmare, but just when it was getting really intense this person showed up. They sort of took my hand and suddenly I wasn’t afraid anymore. I couldn't make out their face though, it was like trying to look at your reflection in stormy water... But some part of me just knew- I knew that I recognized them. I just can't figure out where from. I keep trying to puzzle it out, but nothing- I’ve got nothing!”

“I see,” Hiccup hummed, the boy had been listening attentively, a kind smile on his lips. “Well, sometimes these things take time. If you can’t remember their face you could try something else. How they dressed, what they said. Those could give you clues to who they are. Maybe start there?” Hiccup offered with a shrug, his fingers brushing over his chin as he thought. 

“I just wish I could remember them now, it’s frustrating not knowing,” He huffed out a soft laugh. “But, thanks Hiccup, that’s a good place to start.”

Considering Hiccup's advice he tried to recall the dream. He had been far too focused on their face to take notice of their outfit, and trying to think back now only seemed to worsen the growing pressure behind his eyes and muddling his thoughts. 

The only thing he really had to go on was that they kept calling his name, so he must have known them, they weren’t just a passing stranger. What stuck out to him the most was that they had called him _Jackson_. Until eight years ago the only people who had called him Jackson were people he had known before he became Jack Frost before he died. Which could only mean the person had to have been someone from his mortal years. That narrowed it down, a little, but it didn’t put a face—or a name—to the stranger. 

And that was where things became increasingly unclear, because other than his mother and his sister, he hadn’t been able to remember many others from those distant days. A baker here, a neighbor there, a few kids he and Mary had played with from time to time. Not that he had really been trying, he was far more curious about his father, remembering the face of the man who helped bring him into the world. 

It was only now that something about this woman was causing such unfathomable feelings in him, that he was growing more disheartened by his missing memories. The tightness in his chest every time the woman came to mind was infuriating. He couldn’t tell what it meant and he was getting ever antsier not knowing. 

Whether it was all just irritation over the nameless woman or the haze that had descended over his mind that had him on edge, he wasn’t sure. The dark clouds brewing on the peripheries of his consciousness and the swelling pressure of the mental storm was making him feel as though his head was about to split open. The clouds were only growing darker.

What it all meant he didn’t know, the slight stinging that arose from the mark on his chest—the mark he had found his first proper night there. The one that looked exactly like the symbol he had seen on the tree before he was pushed through the portal, the seven-pointed star he was sure he remembered being told about a long time ago—was leading him to believe something was up. An unshakable sense of dread was building inside, but like most things, he just couldn’t figure out why. 

“Hiccup…” Jack started slowly, not sure what he was about to say but felt the need to fill the silence. Getting no reply he turned to look at the teen, Hiccup had fallen asleep hunched over his sketchbook. 

Jack moved to stir the sleeping rider, knowing if he left him like that the boy would suffer the next day, and just as his hand settled on the boy's shoulder, all hell broke loose outside the hut. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this chapter is so late. I spent the entire time writing it second-guessing myself, so that was fun.  
> Everyone is second-guessing this chapter, Jack, Hiccup, the other riders, me.  
> I had told myself that this chapter would be shorter, apparently, I lied. Turned out to be as long as the list of mistakes I've made in my life. 
> 
> On a more positive note, I want to thank everyone who left a kudos or comment so far, you guys are awesome.


End file.
